Tiling in the Nude

The last big undertaking in the kitchen remodel is tiling the wall behind the sink and range. I think I bought every piece of tile that Lowe's and Home Depot sell before I settled on this one:

We got started the job yesterday, and after a VERY slow start -- two hours, two tiles set -- we (OK, mostly Mason) made great progress. And yes, it was hot outside, but luckily our little house stays reasonably comfortable inside until late afternoon. So no, we weren't naked while tiling. But nearly. (And that headline did get you to read this boring update, right?)

Mason predicts we may have her grouted by Sunday, so the final kitchen photos should come next week. Drumroll, please ...

Father's Day on Flat Top

I know, everyone thinks it's a little weird that Mason and I each get along so well with our respective ex-spouses, but how's THIS for strange: My ex, Mike, and his wife, Glenda, and their daughter, Teagan, came to visit us on Flat Top this past week and celebrated Father's Day here!

That's Teagan, above, making a hell of a game out of throwing bean bags at her dad as he tried to relax in our now-famous hammock. They flew from Minneapolis to Nashville and drove a rental car down and spent two days soaking up the Flat Top lifestyle. In addition to the usual walks, naps and card games, we also borrowed some neighbors' canoes and went for a little paddle in the little lake here.

By Day Three, urbanite Mike was ready for some signs of civilization, so we headed downtown for a walk on the pedestrian-only Walnut Street Bridge and out to lunch. Then Teagan, with Glenda and me in tow, spent an hour in kids' heaven: a water fountain park where kids get to run through circles and circles of splashing water. Mike and Mason? They were supposed to be retrieving the car, but they also decided to hit a bar to throw back beers and watch soccer. Some things never change.

Once they had their Flat Top fill, we trekked east about three hours to the shadows of the Smokey Mountains and rented a "cabin." (Air-conditioning? Satellite TV? And a dishwasher? Mason and I would call it more of a chalet). The next day we did the Smokies. Beauuuutiful area! But here's a tip: Avoid Pigeon Forge. It's the town north of the Smokey Mountains and it's a complete tourist trap for families -- Mason's coined it the Hillbilly Vegas Strip.

From there, Mike et al. drove to the Mammoth Caves in southern Kentucky, then did a couple of nights in Nashville eating at the foodie restaurants and hitting the Grand Ol' Opry for some live music.

We, however, headed home, where it's been summer-hot and we've been lazy ever since. Tomorrow's Monday, so maybe that will motivate us to get back on that kitchen, where we still have to tile the backsplash, install toe-kicks on the cabinets, finish some painting and put up some towel racks. Oh, that kitchen island? It's done and we LOVE it! It was the central gathering place for our guests. Can't wait for you all to see it in person! (Yes, indeed, I am a tease.)

Island Dreams

Today was a big day for the kitchen: creating one island countertop from two pieces of butcherblock.

It was the first time Mason had used a biscuit joiner, so there were some nerves involved. We know it looks more like a torture table right now, but give us a few days. All those clamps and tie-down straps are keeping the two pieces tightly together while the glue sets and the biscuits expand in their slots.

Then we'll sand the thing and turn one corner into a nice curve and do some more sanding. Then there's oiling. For three days. Finally, we'll be sitting at the island counter, throwing back homebrews in celebration. Oh wait, we do that EVERY night.

Meanwhile, today, about 18 months after packing up our kitchen in Minnesota, I finally unpacked it. So  glad to have access to my George W. Bush commemorative shot glass once again.

Sneak Peak of the NEW Kitchen

OK, so it's been a while, but I promise it's only because we've been working so hard, it almost feels like we have jobs. OK, I lie, it's nowhere NEAR that bad. No matter how hard we work, we dutifully get in about 10 hours of sleep (heaven) and once we do get to work, after our leisurely breakfast routine, we only have to answer to each other (yeah, that's a bit rougher on Mason, poor guy) -- and to Nick the Dog, who still gets his two walks a day, rain or shine. But we HAVE been hitting it pretty hard.

To start with, we made a total of FOUR trips to Atlanta -- without air-conditioning, mind you -- to get everything we needed from IKEA. A neighbor up here on the mountain says she'd rather get a whoopin' than go to Atlanta. And believe me, she's serious.

So above is a sneak peak. Look at those island cabinets -- drawer heaven, no more gray plastic tubs!! All we have left to install is the island countertop, some lighting and the tiled backsplash. We MAY get to it all before Saturday, when guests -- my ex, Mike, and his most-excellent wife, Glenda, and their Mandarin-speaking 7-year-old, Teagan -- arrive for a visit!!  So maybe you'll get the full pics by then. Or not. Whenever. Chill, people.

And thank you, Colleen and Laurie, for prodding me for an update.

Step One: New Tile Floor

Now, of course, most of this will be covered with cabinets and the little island, but I'm hoping enough of it shows to make a whimsical impact. We still have to grout it, and we're still hammering out the countertop options, but we're making progress.

In the meantime, the old stove is out on the front porch. Nothing says Tennessee mountain life like frying up the morning bacon on the front porch. Hee-Haw!

How's the Kitchen, You Ask?

OK, here's my vision for the "new" kitchen, minus the little center island. Yes, I'm a doodler. In 2002, when I was selling all my belongings ahead of our sailing adventure, I drew little depictions of my furniture and posted it in my apartment building's lobby. It sold surprisingly fast. If only I had listened more often when my artist mom gave me her artist tips.

So, what I failed to envision for our kitchen remodel was what a challenge it was going to be to buy the cabinets from IKEA.  Yes, I realized the closest IKEA was in Atlanta, almost 3 hours' drive south. And I figured at least two trips would be required. But Trip No. 3 is already on the docket, thanks to finding a giant crack in the farmhouse sink when we opened the box today.

Always something, right? Oh, did I mention we still have no air conditioning in the Jeep? And temps have been in the 90s. (Some relief in sight this week, I'm happy to report.) And one more thing: Nick barks at every single semitrailer truck we pass on the interstate. It's a quick but brutal road trip.

But there has been progress. The new electronic-free propane range is ready to go, and seven of the 10 cabinets are built. Next is ripping up the flooring so we can start tiling and installing everything. But that doesn't happen until IKEA Journey No. 3, which means my third on-the-road Egg McMuffin breakfast and 50-cent IKEA hot dog lunch in a week. Kitchen remodeling is hell for my good health.

Snakes and Guns

When we moved in more than 15 months ago, we were told that there were some poisonous snakes to be concerned about here: mostly cooperheads and rattlers. But since then, we've only seen dead ones in the road and two little tiny ones on the property that only made one-time appearances. Clearly, our guard was down.

So over the weekend, I'm on the front porch, finishing off a book of short stories ("The Boys of My Youth," by Jo Ann Beard - I recommend it, thanks Book Fairy Natalie!!!), when I noticed that a small friendly lizard has climbed up on the porch with me. So I'm chatting with Mr. Lizard when I then hear rustling under the house and then the porch, and in no time, I watch this BIG black snake come sidewinding out into the front flower bed. He's chasing something that's hopping for its life. A baby mouse? No, it's a small toad. Run, toad, run!

SNAKE! BIG SNAKE! I yell to Mason, who's inside the cabin. Now I hear rustling inside the cabin, and for a few seconds I'm whispering expletives in my head, wondering what's taking Mason so long to come to my rescue. But then I realize he's going for the shotgun.

Seconds fly by and the snake has snatched the toad in its mouth and is now quite still, perhaps waiting for its poison to disable Mr. Toad. Mason comes racing out the front screen door with his shotgun raised. I point to the snake and Mason take 3 seconds to decide if it's a poisonous model, then, BOOM!

The snake is dead. He's got multiple shotgun pellets peppered into his triangular little head. And sorry, the toad does, too, as he was in the snake's jaws.

Now we investigate. The snake's sharp little triangular head makes us think it's poisonous, but it's skin doesn't look like the argyle pattern of a copperhead and there's no rattler. We turn to the smartphone and determine nothing. So maybe it was poisonous, or maybe not. But it's dead. (Sorry for the blurry photo; I was a bit unnerved.)

So when all is said and done, I ask Mason: So was I right? Was it a big snake?

"I wasn't disappointed that I got the gun," he returned. And that's saying something, because now he's gotta clean the shotgun.

Meanwhile, minutes after the flurry of activity, we realize the ear-piercing crack of the gun has promptly sent Nick into full panic mode. He's missing, which means he's under the house. Under the house, where the snake came from. Grrrrrrrrreat. (Don't worry, he's the second-greatest-dog-ever; he came out when we called!)