Yesterday, I began the process of deconstructing my kitchen. Having your refrigerator die the week before Christmas will do that to a homesteader. It’s not just enough to move the old one out and pop a new one in–I figure I should take advantage of this opportunity to make a few changes in one of my favorite rooms in our home.
What you need to know about my kitchen is that she is small. While I get frustrated some evenings by the pots and pans that spill out of cabinets or the lack of countertop surface needed for bigger cooking projects, I do value and honor Kitchen, probably more for who she is than what she looks like.
While she and I agreed that this is no time for an extreme room makeover, we have decided that some cosmetic changes are in order. And so, yesterday I began the process of removing the old refrigerator and taking down cabinetry. The room that I had meticulously cleaned and organized just the day before was suddenly thrown into chaos. Bless her heart!
I looked around. Argh! What was I thinking? I took a moment to gather myself and perused over my Facebook page. There they were, status after status update filled with New Year’s resolutions, and all of them embodying some form of change or renewal.
I turned and looked at Kitchen’s bare wall, and then it hit me. The key to reconstruction is deconstruction. We have to be willing to deal with the old before we can make something new.
New Year’s resolutions motivate us because we like the thought of changing our lives and becoming better people. Yet, if we ignore the prep work it takes before our “makeover,” then we’ve undermined the whole renovation. Old habits creep back in. Our resolve crumbles.
As I sit here this morning looking at the bare wall awaiting spackle, sandpaper, paint, and shelving, I know I’ve got my work cut out for me before Friday. But by golly, Kitchen will be so excited to have a new ‘do, and I can sit back and start deconstructing the next task at hand.