The wood will be painted over.
This is the kitchen I will demolish tomorrow, but salvage the oak cabinets.
A friendly warning to all you wood-lovers out there: we take possession of a new house this week and begin renos... the wood will be painted over. I'm sorry, there's no getting around it. I can't softshoe this at all. The wood has got to go.
Maybe it's not the wood. Maybe it's me. Maybe in my hest to do the opposite of whatever The Fan would like me to do (why start complying now, at 40?), maybe I've been a Martha Stewart Living subscriber for too long, or perhaps all those long dateless weekends before I met Veto are catching up with me and I fancy myself a Hildi or a Laurie, at the ready with a can of some ghastly hue to conceal perfectly fine cabinets. Yes, that's it. The Fan is my very own Paige Davis, replete with showgirl costume, dancing about the set saying things like, "you do realize that you're running out of time" and "you're going to paint those nice oak cabinets white?" and all of the other running commentary that the home viewers are sharing over their bowls of Orville Reddenbacher.
I can't help myself. I must have white cabinets. Even in a house I plan to sell. The white is so fresh, so open, so inviting... so Martha.
So summery. So beachy. So Cape Cod. I must satisfy this urge for serenity, for an utterly bare palate of colour.
Perhaps you, like The Fan, dear reader, are not a fan of painting perfectly good oak cabinets. But I must do it.