Life Is Hard To Predict At Times

Yesteryear, in 2002 to be exact, Arthur showed up with a firm handshake and a briefcase.  He's the guy Republic West sent out to give me a quote for some remodeling I wanted done at my N. 14th St house.  Arthur was tall, Italian, had dark hair and eyes and an accent revealing an upbringing in New York somewhere.  He set his briefcase down on my dining room table and removed from it a calculator, notepad and a measuring tape.  He walked into my kitchen and stood there silently taking in the space.  A few moments later he methodically moved about the kitchen, measuring walls, taking steps back to visualize upgrades and then nodding in approval of his conjured up ideas.

Before the remodel, I had been living in the house for a year with a kitchen boasting metal cabinets. They held my dishes and coffee cups and untold stories behind every ding and scratch on them. There was no pantry.  Very little counter space. But, it had a charming original French door leading out into the backyard ~ it's part of the reason I fell in love with the house.

"I'd suggest we remove the French door, rebuild the wall and install a dishwasher which will give you extra counter space there", he said.   My heart sank.  "I, uh...I really love that door", I said.  "...besides, I haven't needed a dishwasher in the year I've been here."   He persisted but when he realized I wouldn't concede, he issued the following warning: "Omitting the dishwasher is going to hurt your resale value".   “I’ll never sell this place", I confidently replied.   

We were both wrong.  I did have to sell the place but not having a dishwasher didn't hurt my resale value.  Incidentally, the remodel was fantastic and the French door continued to put a smile on my face for years to come.

Today, after a messy past two years, I'm back in a neighborhood I love but back to square one with yet another outdated house. It's like the couple who lived here before me never left. Their style still lingers. I need for this house to feel like my own.

So, yesterday, Arthur arrived with a firm handshake and a satchel over his left shoulder.  I showed him to the dining room table where he set his bag and removed from it a calculator, notepad and a fancy laser measuring device.  He walked into my kitchen and stood there taking in the space.  Just like old times, he studied the lay out, transformed the space in his mind and slowly nodded to himself.  

The full circle moment was surreal though I couldn't help making it more so by interjecting, "...When considering where the pull-out recycle and trash might fit, keep in mind that I don’t need that dishwasher; I haven’t used one in over 18 years”.   Without hesitation he said "The dishwasher stays…it’s good for resale”.

"Tssk.  Well,  I'm tempted to tell you that I'll never sell this house, but I've learned to never say never," I replied.

Taking his last measurement, Arthur held the laser device against a wall causing a red dot to appear on the opposing wall.  He lowered it, checked the display, and while making notes on his notepad he replied, "Life is hard to predict sometimes".

Well, we agree on that much.   

I still won't use the dishwasher though.

A glimpse of the French door and a dog I miss a ton!

Metal cabinets and PINK walls.

A brand new kitchen!