Everything, And The Kitchen Sink

There once was a kitchen in Tulsa.

And in that kitchen, there was a fridge.

And in that fridge, there was a valve.

And in that valve, there was a leak.

(That leaked and leaked and leaked.)

In that lovely kitchen in Tulsa.

But it was a sneaky leak, that leak that leaked.

So it shorted some wiring.

And it turned off some power.

Then it buckled some floors.

And it ruined some walls.

In that lovely kitchen in Tulsa.

And so, some men, they removed those floors.

And next, those men, they pulled off some cabinets.

And still, those men, they took out an island.

More yet, those men, they hauled out appliances.

In that lovely (non) kitchen it Tulsa.

So now, that kitchen, it must be rebuilt.

And the contents are stacked in boxes like stilts.

And there are cabinets in living rooms.

And dining chairs in entryways.

And countertops in pieces.

And fine china in bedrooms.

But nothing.

In that non-kitchen.

In Tulsa.

Except, poor Nanna, who loved that kitchen.

‘Till it was just some empty space in Tulsa.

So...

This (not-exactly-lovely) bedtime story pretty much covers the past few weeks of Nanna’s life—and the impromptu busyness of our final week of summer.

Because the kiddos and I drove to Tulsa during the last possible window we could, and Dada blessedly watched the crazy trio on less than 18 hours’ notice, while Nanna and I tackled a slew of physical tasks and emotional reinforcing.

In case it’s not obvious, poor Nanna is kitchen-less and starting from the slab up. (Literally.)

Hardwood floor must be replaced, and the entire downstairs sanded and sealed.

Which means all downstairs furniture has to be relocated.

Before cabinets can be put back in.

And countertops can appear.

With backsplash, ‘cause it’s necessary.

And those appliances that are kinda sorta needed.

Not to mention painting and unpacking and oodles and gobs of small details.

To rebuild another lovely kitchen in Tulsa.

:)

P.S. It was a busy, but weirdly fun final adventure for our last week of summer—and also weirdly fun (but also busy) to be able to travel alone with my trio without pulling all my hair out. My babies, they are a-growing.

More catch-up posts this weekend.

Over and out.

P.P.S. As is typically the case with visits to grandparents’ houses, there are childhood treasures to retrieve. And this particular round included a couple old dance costumes that helped Chica fulfill her two-year-dream of finding something to wear that was just like one of her beloved books.