I have a sink and a faucet and both are way hotter than, say, Russell Crowe to me at this moment. The sink is 9 inches deep and the faucet has a pull-out spray head. I'm thinking Russell doesn't measure up.

The dishwasher is still wobbly because the plumber was righteously scared to drill into the countertop to anchor it, so the guys who do that for a living have to come out to fasten it down. They were already primed to do it as part of the install but I won't use the d/w until they do, because it does wobble most alarmingly when you pull even the empty rack forward. It can't actually "fall out" or "get hurt" but it sure is startling when your dishwasher lurches forward when you pull out the bottom rack. But handwashing in a luxury kitchen sink for a couple of days ain't no hardship, so I don't care.

I loaded only a few things so far, because I ran out of shelf liner. I'm using this great rubbery shelf liner from Costco, and I thought one honkin' big wide roll of the stuff would do it (of course it requires cutting and dividing and splicing into place) and I underestimated. So today's accomplishment was getting the shelves set into place and lining 4/5 of the cabinets and emptying a few boxes into the lined shelves. That took five hours and wiped me out - another stairmaster day, up and down the stepstool. And of course, getting the really hot, sexy sink and faucet where they belong ate the rest of the afternoon kitchen work time. Plumber guy worked very hard and did an awesome job. Tomorrow lighting guy puts up the ceiling fixture and more stuff will find its way into its new location. I'm unloading boxes slowly and gradually because I am also assessing what really matters to me in the kitchen. The first purge was the unload of the cabinets, culling the crap I'd forgotten I owned, but the big purge is the reload of the new cabinets.

I am still in "I have way too much stuff" mode. I hooted at the Harlot's story of her SiL's gift for brutal household purging, I so identify and think she needs to ship her down here. Though actually I'm prettydamngood at that myself - my only internal conflict is pausing to consider whether friends or family members might want to pick through my stuff before I send it to charity or throw it out. We are in "going, going, gone" mode here, take it with you or it's going to Goodwill or St. Vincent de Paul, whoever can find a home for it gets it. My Girlchild shares my sentiments on these things and is as brutal as I, but the Boychild always lapses into either "I might need that later," or openly sentimental mode when asked about parting with mementos of his childhood. But you know, he's 23 and has a (rented) house with more square footage than this one, so if he wants it he can take it now or it's gone. This ain't the Smithsonian baby, and when I was your age...let's see...you were already able to talk and toddling around the house.

Knitting content: while nice young plumber was grunting and trying not to swear in my kitchen I made enormous progress on the chocolate mocha Constant Companion bag. It may actually be done in the next week. Honest. Pictures of knitting and crocheting will come before pictures of kitchen. Honest.