Everything But The Kitchen Sink
September 2023
Waiting
It feels like I’ve been waiting forever for a kitchen sink.
I’ve been sinkless since May 15, which makes it over 4 months of washing dishes in the bathroom.
Dishes pile up on the bathroom floor, awaiting a wash session. Even telling you this, I feel the need to clarify: I have another bathroom upstairs, I try to keep it dishes and actual bathroom business separate.
But do I sometimes pee surrounded by mugs and food processor attachments? Yes.
I whisper “this is disgusting” and then I wash my hands and go eat lunch off a freshly-washed plate.
My brothers are visiting soon to put an end to the misery. The countertop and sink await. I’ll post shiny before and after shots on Instagram. It’ll feel great.
The big reveal is sexy. I love that part of renovation.
But you can’t get there without the in-between. It’s not “the work” in the way sanding floors and putting countertop is. But it’s vital. A very living-out of hope for the place. “I will stay here and I will make it better through my time here.” And not better in a hustle culture way—you don’t leave every annoying part behind in the improvement process. You’re making a thing better, but then you have to do upkeep. It’s cyclical.
The mystery of this house is that even with all the gross parts of living through a renovation, it’s always felt like the right place for me. The funniest symptom is the way finished projects feel. Yes, I get a rush of “Woah! The house is totally transformed!” immediately after completion, but it quickly settles into “Oh, this is how it’s meant to be.” It’s calm.
Recipe For A Good Day
I had a Monday off. Started with a book that hit the spot, plus journalling.
Felt crafty. Looked for an appliqué tutorial on Pinterest and found All Well, which turns out to be project co-run by
, a poet/designer/maker who was just such a soulful find.There are so many terrible overly-Search-Engine-Optimized tutorial websites on the internet. Finding a site run by a thoughtful person was deeply nourishing. It felt like stumbling into a treasure trove. I subscribed to Amy’s Substack and bought her poetry book and her zine with patchwork alphabet instructions. I recommend them all.
Absorbed by all these discoveries, I felt akin to a much younger version of myself.
She who used the family desktop computer to view craft blogs, then ran off to get absorbed in making for an entire afternoon.
Feeling steeped in new ways to make, I wrote a poem.
Then I sewed a sun: appliquéd a circle. Didn’t have matchy enough embroidery floss for the sun’s rays, so I took a JoAnn’s trip.
Played with color as I picked up a bunch of floss.
Back home, I ate chicken soup from a handmade bowl.
It took the length of two full movies to embroider the sun’s rays.
What’s it for? Making for the sake of making.
It’s satisfying. Like an extension of my sketchbooks.
Tactile and experimental. (And so pretty).
I felt like myself again, after a long summer of burnout.
Handwork, deep thoughts, writing. I want more time to feel this way.
For the Love of It
I’m in a funny in-between where I feel release from some obligations I thought I’d keep up for a lot longer.
As a very plan-y person, I find it hard to believe I could just leave. But sustainable community has an open door in and out. And, thankfully, I feel release. Calm about going. And also very yucky in-betweenness symptoms. (Cue ‘what am I supposed to do with my time??’)
I’ve had some (personal) project deadlines get missed or land right at the edge recently.
You know what I have found time for? Sewing these little banners. They aren’t even quilts with a practical keep-warm angle. They just exist.
I cleared away a lot of sewing stuff from the table so I could make this newsletter, but after I hit send? I’ll sew another fish on fabric.
I don’t know why it hits the spot. And it’s nice to enjoy not knowing, amidst a lot of trickier unknowns. It’s a gift to find the new project that feels surprising and familiar all at once.
I’m realizing how trying for the far-off after can kneecap the weird juicy stuff that helps me feel alive.
I have all these theories about making a place good, settling in for the long haul, turning it into what you want it to be.
Is it enough? I’d shoved aside this thought, but I’m wondering now.
Enough to chew on and work through?
Enough people speaking the same language of attention and commitment here?
Here
I bought my house because of other people’s boyfriends. That sounds like a joke but it’s not.
I was in that stage of life where it felt like all my friends were in serious partnerships. When you’re losing beloved roommates left and right, it feels a little like your world is falling apart.
And so I looked for a way to escape the impact of other people’s relationships. The solution was to live solo. I took a first time homebuyers class and got pre-approved and went to a realtor with a specific tricky list (tiny budget, 3 bedrooms, hardwood floors). Then I found this house and went through a truly wild purchase process and renovated a bunch and here I am with a long list of what’s been done and a long list of what’s to come.
Some people jump into a reno with fun-hobby energy. I thought I would (“It’s like a giant art project!”) It turns out I like decorating, which comes after the heavy-duty gut projects. So it’s been a very slow middle.
When my obligations are pulling at me and I wear thin, the house doesn’t ask anything of me. I show up to work in wrinkle-free dress, my steamer left on the dining table in a rush. I bring delicious cookies to a potluck, the counter full of dishes waits til I’m free.
I think of this advice parents of teenagers get—“if your kid is acting out at home, it’s because they feel safe.” That’s how my home gets treated in times of stress—a safe place to land. It gets bedraggled, things pile up. But I know it is waiting for me when I have the space, time, bandwidth to pick it all up again. Anything I do is an improvement over what it used to be. There’s room for my lack of repair expertise.
There’s this Strong Independent Single Woman narrative that I find more and more unhelpful. It was a useful story for a while, and can still be for others, but I find myself leaning towards together. Finding those who think similarly. Pulling off fun art community events with 10 other people. Writing prompts for a church activity with a friend. Swapping squash recipes with fellow CSA members. Inviting a friend to the concert. Asking my brothers for more repair help.
I’m not doing any of this alone, and it’s more joyful if I remember that instead of spinning it into some solo story.
In some ideal world I clean up for myself, not just for guests. Because I deserve a clean space! But is it wrong that caring for others makes you take better care of yourself? If I waited til my house was shiny and beautiful, I’d miss out on porch book clubs for two, tomato salad lunches, and friends who witness the gradual transformation of each room with me. Independence involves a lot of interdependence.
One thing I do hold solo is the hope for this house. No one else knows it as intimately. No one else gets up in the middle of the night to use the dark stone-tiled bathroom. No one else blares music while washing dishes in the makeshift setup. No one else flips three light switches to tote laundry to the basement. No one else absentmindedly looks at the wall cracks and muses “I should take care of those soon.” No one else sits on the porch and hears neighbor kids yelling “Let’s play Russian Police!” and “Why do your hands smell like Spanish rice??” to each other.
It still feels forever-ish, but now I see that if there’s a time to leave, I’ll probably feel calm about it.
What else is out there?
Here I am in the middle, no tidy way to wrap it up.
Elsewhere
Madeline Jubilee Saito’s comics make me feel cocooned and reverent.
The most compelling piece about the origins of an obscure pedestrian bridge in Minnesota.
Every Robin Sloan newsletter feels like a treasure map to a life I want to live: wide-ranging curiosity, deep thinking, time spent sharing those thoughts.
AppleRankings.com. It is exactly what it sounds like. Extremely validating to see Red Delicious apples get dragged.
Thanks for reading! I love to hear your thoughts. Comment on Substack or hit reply in your inbox to email me directly.
💛, Ten
Always happy to see Ten Times pop into my inbox! I read and enjoy every one! Love your insights and illustrations.
This week I was shocked to realize September was already coming to an end, but then I realized that meant another edition of Ten Times would be coming out, and then I was very excited for September to end. Loved every bit of this. So many lovely morsels to chew on, as always!