Diane Again: Love The One You're With

This photo speaks for itself.

Yep. My messy remodeling project has become a hands-on experience.

What can I say. Tools are great but when it comes to smoothing concrete into the tiny nooks and crannies of my kitchen counter tops, I end up ditching the putty knives and diving in with my bare hands.

I realize that my technique is a little unorthodox but whatever. I'm three layers in to the five-layer process and my methodology is working for me, so I'm going with it. I'm super excited about these new counter tops.

Well. I'm excited about the finished look. The work gets a little monotonous. So, as I'm splashing around up to my elbows in wet concrete, I find myself daydreaming about the other (low budget) changes I may make to my kitchen, once the counters are finished.

Repainting walls.

Refinishing cabinets

Restyling open shelves.

Rearranging counter tops.

Refreshing rugs and window coverings.

And as I ponder the possibilities, an image keeps popping into my brain.

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This kitchen. I can't stop thinking about it. I am fascinated with every inch of its precious white-on-white-on-white decor:

the ceiling,
window trim,
tile work,
cabinets,
counter tops
and dishes on display.

Shiny stainless appliances, a hardwood floor, the rug and window covering lend texture and warmth. The totally neutral and oh so light-filled room comes alive from the green plants and the yellow lemons, with similar colors echoed in the books so sweetly displayed.

I love it. I adore it. I want to break it into sprinkles and eat it on top of my ice cream.

There is only one slight problem.

My kitchen could never look like this.

I mean, you know, hire the right contractors, blow a wad of money and sure, the effect could certainly be reproduced.

But it would be so wrong. Because my kitchen is not meant to be all white.

My 1980s kitchen is full of natural wood:

upper and lower cabinets
baseboards,
doors,
windows,
as well as the railing, mantel and ceiling beams in the nearby family room.

And to be fair, this is not that glossy and garish 80s golden oak that nightmares are made of. The look is all glowy and natural and actually pretty nice.

I have no desire to repaint a million miles of perfectly fine wood. Maybe some of it. But Lord have mercy, not everything.

That is why I've accepted my kitchen for what it is. A lovely wood-filled room that I choose to embrace, rather than try to change into something altogether different.

So sorry about it, all-white kitchen. You are a gorgeous dream but you are not the kitchen for me. Luckily, I've discovered plenty of natural wood inspiration to help me find new ways to love the one I'm with.