Your Kitchen Is My Kitchen

You might think, given the nature of my work, I don’t bring work home with me. The thought of me removing someone’s kitchen from their house and taking it home might appear daft to you. You may even think my wife would be very upset if I kept bringing other people’s kitchens home.

As it happens, I bring kitchens home all the time, usually when I’m working on one that is quite a distance away. It’s more economical for me to remove the doors and drawers and work on them in my workshop at home than stay over in B&Bs on location. It’s a cost saving for the client.

As I write this, we’re into week four of the virus lock down here in Ireland. It may also be week 40—things are starting to blur a bit in my mind. Just before we were all told to stay home, I collected a kitchen from a super client in Navan. It’s been with me since, all painted now, but unable to be returned home.

You might think I’ve left it out in my workshop. But I’m Welsh and we can be very hospitable, provided you are a good guest and don’t do anything silly like beat Wales at rugby, especially in Cardiff, that’s just rude. In that case, you are my sworn enemy. Fortunately, kitchens very rarely beat Wales at rugby (though it doesn’t stop other teams throwing the kitchen sink at us). So this particular one is enjoying the finest room in the house: my own kitchen.

You might think I’ve lost my mind after several weeks’ confinement with my children. I can assure you, I have not. (Though who knew young children could be so challenging and demanding?) But the question remains: why bring the client’s kitchen into my own house? (Supplementary: how does our own kitchen feel about it?).

Truth of the matter is that I’m protecting the wood of the client’s kitchen doors. My workshop is fine for short stays—a few days, a week. But it’s no place to leave kitchen doors for an extended period of time. I mean: I don’t even like spending long in there myself. There’s no central heating and an extended stay would bring with it the risk of moisture getting into the wood.

You wouldn’t immediately notice it. In fact, for many kitchens, it wouldn’t even be a problem. Kitchen doors absorb moisture all the time, which can cause swelling. But, of course, the frames and the rest of the kitchen experience the same conditions, so no problem. Everyone is swelling together. However, left out in the workshop, there is a small risk that because of swelling, the doors might not fit properly into their original frames once back in Co. Louth. Basically, it’s the same phenomenon I experience every Easter or Christmas. My trousers all shrink round the waistline for some unknown mysterious reason. Consequently there are issues regarding fit for a few weeks until they loosen up a bit. Something like that.

So while it is in my care, I am showing my client’s kitchen the warmest Welsh hospitality.

A kitchen painter’s kitchen

Talking of my own kitchen, I’ll let you in on a secret. My kitchen was in a shocking state for years. My wife was not, shall we say, happy with that. But in my defence, I paint kitchens all the livelong day. The last thing I want to do when I get home is paint another one. I mean, you don’t get brain surgeons coming home and operating on someone in the utility room outside of work, do you?

Anyway, after only one or two reminders (maybe even as few as two dozen), I started work.

I can tell you now, it almost broke my heart. The reason was simple: I’m an idiot. I decided I was going to have a completely smooth finish on my doors. Problem was, the wood had a grain to it. Sanding down the wood took a long, long, so very, very long time. I could have built my own continent with my bare hands in a shorter space of time.

To be honest, it was the sort of job that needed an extended period of time at home with nothing else to do or anywhere else to go.

But when is that ever going to happen?