Fixing a Hole (the kitchen saga continues)

Gob Bluth disappeared our kitchen.

Or did we ever have a kitchen? Maybe it was … AN ILLUSION!

Stressed but grateful, we checked out of the hotel and came home Thursday. Over the weekend our kitchen became a pile of rubble. Then it became a little window into history: turns out there used to be a fireplace in there! Like all NYC apartment-dwellers I’ve always lusted after a working fireplace. Alas, it’s impossible. Amber wondered when our bricks last saw the light of day. According to this map our building was built around 1920. The brick is covered by sheet rock again. Perhaps the tenants of 2100 will have the same conversation as they wait for their jetpacks – or their personal submarines – to recharge.

Right now the apartment is messier than it was when I moved in. Plates and glasses cover Amber’s desk, almost every other surface is holding up kitchen goods, bottles, cleansers, spices and ingredients. The stuff that isn’t on the furniture is on the floor. The fridge is in the office with our table, counter, and liquor cabinet. We’re very anxious for this to end.

That said, we’re having fun, too! We spent the weekend with some new friends. Amber photographed Kevin and Amy’s wedding this month, and they brought us a big box of fresh produce, then let us lead them to a delicious dinner at Bogota, Sunday brunch at Le Pain Quotidien, a flea market, and Prospect Park. And Amber made a great investment in our record collection.

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