It may be 2 words, or 200, but I'm starting it now, May 1, 2017.  It's commitment versus quality. Consistency over count. Public pledge. no judgement...please.

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#100daysofwriting #The100DayProject

Prompt: Location, Location, Location

The birds are chirping. It’s a chatty, layered conversation with tones that dip, soft whistles that coo and staccato darts that pierce the morning air. I’ve trained my ears to translate the dull traffic noise into a quiet ocean roar so that from here, it feels like I’m in a treehouse on the coast. Reality is close enough and that pleases me

I’m sitting in the breakfast nook. I could spend all day in here, now that it’s transformed from it’s 80s Oak glory into my Pinterest dream. It features my favorite colors--blue and white. This felt like the smallest room in the house, with lowish ceilings and god awful fluorescent lights under “crystal” plastic sheeting--all to hide an unfortunate access point to our attic on this side of the house. Poor planning by quick and dirty developers. The cushions I’m perched on are redone in a nubby linen blend that somehow passed the 30,000+ rub test. Ready to withstand thousands of bum touches, the benches are partnered with pillows in patterns with watercolor dots, shibori stripes and ikat diamonds. While I imagine that I’m typing at a white Saarinen table, it’’s really Ikea, and two months in already has a scratch in the surface. Disappointed, not surprised.

It’s light, open and cool in here now. White above, navy below. Shiny white subway tiles cover the open arch wall framing the sink, stagger stacked under the open shelving which proudly boasts a rainbow of cookbooks, plates, bowls, glassware, and jars of nuts, seeds and grains. I’m doing my best Emily Henderson and Justina Blakeney to style the shit out of this wall.

The sink itself is a prize--one splurge in my mostly DIY budget. Wide, single basin farmer’s style apron front Kohler. The faucet, in Champagne brass, is like the shiny unicorn’s horn of a strong, white, cast iron beast. Surrounding the sink are smooth, quartzite countertops meant to mimic Calacatta marble. No regrets. These are still beautiful and certainly more durable, with veins of stormy sky and earthy clay. Virtually indestructible I was told. Supporting the new work surface are cabinets painted in Secret Society. A deep, dark blue meant for sailors and serious handshakes. The doors are decorated in brass, as any brave captain might be.

While the sink is a prize workhorse, the opposite side of the kitchen features your basic four-top gas burner--saved in the reno and now crowned in a graphic Moroccan tile backsplash. From corner to corner, counter to cupboard, sit bold blocks of pattern in black, white and azure, creating the kind of wow moment that covers all of the crazy flaws you might otherwise get hung up on.

I don’t miss the oaky warmth, the chipped tile, the worn sink. The 80s suburban nostalgia from Stranger Things. Yacht rock on replay. Now it’s Honne, I’m home.