Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

We’re dismantling our kitchen in anticipation of new granite countertops and a new sink and new window treatments. It’s all under the guise of making our kitchen look more up-to-date.
But it means we need to empty cabinets and drawers, because some of the cupboards are going to be reconstructed; and all of them will endure a week of carpenter’s dust.

So this morning we unloaded the dishes and the silverware and the plastic containers and the pots and the cookie sheets and the so on. We stacked these items in the dining room and the living room and the laundry room; and I have the intention of separating those items we use from those we don’t. Those we don’t use should go to the Good Will.

But Earl doesn’t see it this way. He’s committed to keeping every little paring knife and pasta pot and salsa maker. He wants the duplicate coffee grinders and both mandolins (These are not the musical variety.), even though I prefer the cheap, plastic variety to the expensive, fancy one. I’m a minimalist at heart.

Which means that emptying our cupboards is not only about the upheaval of stacking things elsewhere temporarily; but it’s also about paring down, evaluating what we really need, and aligning our cabinets accordingly. That’s the real upheaval in this remodeling effort.