I will have a longer and more photo heavy update post on the bathroom, but our bathroom is on the last leg of it’s long journey! The most important part is that the freaking sink and vanity combo is in and it works! If I had to look at one more sink I think I might have thrown a toddler style tantrum in the middle of Home Depot. I hung art and the mirror that I updated, installed the faucet and painted the walls so it really look like it’s coming together. Not sure about the color right now, but it’s growing on me.
Our updated to do list (66% done):
That’s all for today. I started a new project with my mom so await an update on that.
On September 11, 2001 I was a 6th grader in a Catholic school in Northern Illinois.
Until that day, I had been a child. My biggest worry was who would hang out with me during recess or if I had cool shoes. That morning, I knew very quickly that something out of the ordinary was happening. My principal, who I never saw in the halls, was walking from class to class with a small note in her hand. She walked into our classroom, handed the note to our teacher mid-lecture, said something under her breathe and left. I saw such a range of emotions on my teacher’s face during the few seconds she read the note. I knew something was wrong. My teacher didn’t let anything slip though. She kept on with her lesson like nothing was wrong.
During my next class, our principle got on the PA and directed us all to the small chapel on the lower floor. We got in line and walked quietly, all wondering why we were going to the chapel. This wasn’t our usual Mass day, and that we did in the church. When all the classes were situated in the chapel, my principal stood in the aisle and told us something horrible had happened in New York City. She said she didn’t know the details, but many people had been killed or injured and that we needed to pray for them. We had a small prayer service. I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. What could be going on outside that was so bad they interrupted school? My 11 year old brain couldn’t fathom something like terrorists or suicide bombers or killing for your religion.
Throughout the day, some parents picked up their children. That was when I started to get really worried. Whatever was going on was so bad that they had to pull kids from school. When school ended, I got on the bus to go to my babysitter’s house and she had the news on. I sat glued to the TV soaking in every detail. What they thought had been an accident was really something someone did intentionally. I couldn’t understand. The people who took over the planes knew they would die too, didn’t they? Why would they do something like this? I didn’t understand how strongly people could hate. I had seen the video of the towers going down repeatedly by the time my mom called and told my babysitter not to let me see the news.
My world grew so much that day. My whole life had been school and my immediate family. Now I had a much more global view. I was overwhelmed by the idea that someone could have so much hate that they were capable of doing something like this, but I was also amazed by our reactions. I’m sure there were pundits pointing fingers, but at almost 12 years old all I saw were neighbors helping other neighbors hang flags and exchanging hugs and shoulders to cry on.
Even then, I didn’t really understand what the attacks meant. They have certainly shaped a lot of my beliefs and perspectives since. It’s hard for me not to get teary when I think about that day and it hits me harder every year. The memory is there everyday, but something as significant as an anniversary really brings up the details. As terrible as it makes the world seem, it also proved how wonderful and compassionate humans can be. I try to think about that when the memory seems too painful. My heart is completely broken for everyone in New York and Washington D.C. that day and for everyone who lost a loved one.
If you can’t read my years-since-I’ve-taken-a-class Spanish, I’m pretty sure that says the kitchen has my love. With all this bathroom nonsense going on, I think my kitchen feels left out. So while I was at HOBO searching for a nonexistant perfect sink, I grabbed some new knobs that struck my fancy.
The knob on the left is new and the one on the right was one of the original knobs. If you look around the knobs, you can see just how worn down these cabinets are. They aren’t so high on my list of priorities right now. We still have 3 rooms to make less disgusting and hopefully new floors and windows coming soon. Eventually, though, we want to paint them. I can’t refinish them because — surprise, surprise — they aren’t made of wood! Those doors are some kind of plastic wood imposter. Also, they are oddly thin. We couldn’t use the screws the knobs came with to install them. I had to go to Lowes and grab some packages of screws that were the right length.
As soon as Alex and I had them installed, my sister came in to get something and said, “They are so much easier to grab!” So I guess they get points for being more ergonomically correct. These were an impulse buy (like so many other purchases are) so we didn’t get drawer pulls. If I see something I like that is 3 1/2 in and on sale, I could be persuaded to buy it. Until then, we’ll use our old weird pulls. The good news is these only cost me $17 including tax for 20 cabinet knobs. That is a steal these days. The extra screws ran me about $4 which brings my little update to $21. One Andrew Jackson helped stifle the growing impulse to overhaul the kitchen. I’m sure Alex’s blood pressure is grateful.
I posted about the debacle that was going on with the sink pretty recently. I say debacle because it’s been an aggravating situation with a bunch of people trying to tell me which direction to go in. Keep the sink. Don’t keep the sink. Get a new vanity. Find a different sink. Keep the vanity and forget about ever having a sink. Burn your bathroom to the ground. I was in favor of the latter. I decided to give sink finding a last ditch effort and I went to HOBO and Habitat for Humanity Restore and Home Depot and I looked at Lowes.com. Then, as if in a dream, this vanity/sink combo arose from the ashes of my frustration, took my hand and guided me back to sanity.
It said to me, “Katie, guess what? I don’t have a back splash! I’m modern and a little unique, but still small enough to fit in your powder room. AND they took $60 off me just for this weekend. BUY ME.” So in an impulsive flick of the debit card, I did. That night I returned the other vanity to Home Depot all the while apologizing for abandoning it. I sent Alex to pick up the new vanity the next day, but it didn’t fit in his car. We’ll have to go back tonight.
I’m a bit nervous about the pipes and whether or not they’ll fit in the cabinet. I don’t know the exact height of the bottom of the cabinet portion of the vanity so I’m going to cross all my fingers and everything else I have to hope that this just ends up working out in my favor. Wish me luck.