With each of these remodeling projects there comes the moment when, no matter how you've planned or prepared, there's a collapse. Mine.
Where's the front door, the pretty, Craftsman-y front door that replaced the original plastic (I kid you not) Tiki (ditto) one that was here when I bought this place?
Hidden, behind most of the living room furniture.
Actually, I'm in luck -- the guys built me a sink stand from plywood and an old cupboard door. And look -- they left enough space between the radial arm saw and the stove that we can cook!
Yes, that's the microwave. In the hall.
The irony is the paint going on and the hardwood going in are the biggest transformations, the moment when a remodel turns the corner, zooms down the hill to the finish. (Did I just mix a metaphor?) (What I want is to mix a margarita.)