Steely resolve needed to get a handle on kitchen knob project
Now, it’s knobs? As detailed a few weeks ago in this space, the transformation of our kitchen to all-stainless steel appliances is complete. Or so I thought.
Budgetary constraints have extended the updated kitchen project over the past couple of years, as they do for many folks. First it was the dishwasher, then the stove and recently, the refrigerator and microwave. They’re all in and they all look spiffy. EThey are not all paid for, but spiffy is what we’re going for right now.)
At least everything looks good to me. The Blonde Accountant . . . well, not so much. It’s not that she doesn’t like the look, it’s just that it’s still . . . incomplete.
“vou know, the new stainless steel appliances are making those cabinets look bad,” she said while surveying the new-look kitchen.
“Huh? What? Wait a minute,” I sDiG. “(YHUyWKing ORRNs gUHDW ― even the cabinets.” “No, they need new knobs,” she said.
Knobs? No habla knobs. They already have knobs.
Of course I didn’t say that. I’ve been around long enough to know that the kitchen is an important part of the home — maybe the most important room in the house — and people who pay attention to those kinds of things Eapparently everybody but me) take it very seriously. So if it’s knobs she wants, then it’s knobs she’ll have.
The big home improvement store is the obvious choice for knob-shoppers. And boy, it’s the Fort Knox of knobs. It’s got every NnRE NnRwn WR mDnNinG. , figuUHG this would be an easy task, given that stainless steel is stainless steel. It’s not like we’re choosing colors like taupe, mauve, citrine, azure, pumpkin, eggplant, cabernet, sage or mustard. EWhat are we doing here, picking colors or having OunFK?) HRw GiIfiFuOW FDn iW EH WR pick out a stainless steel knob?
SiOOy mH ― WKHUH DUH D KDnGIuO of different styles and shapes and sizes of stainless steel knobs. I had no idea that being a knobmaker was such a lucrative proposition.
And then, of course, during the browsing portion of the excursion, I was asked my preference on which stainless steel knob I preferred. See, she does that just to mess with me. She doesn’t really want my opinion on knobs because she knows I have absolutely no opinion on knobs. In fact, at that point, I wasn’t even sure what I was doing in the store.
Finally, a decision on knob style was made. We grabbed what we needed and headed to the checkout counter. The total cost was $75. For knobs. Really? I swear somebody is making a boatload of money on knobs and it isn’t me. Wonder what kind of degree I need to become a knobmaker?
And you know that wasn’t the end. The knobs still had to be switched out on the cabinets. This, of course, falls under my jurisdiction, despite the fact that I am a well-known incompetent home improvement guy. I take out the trash and change lightbulbs. And then I need a nap. That is the extent of my home improvement skill set.
So we had Knob Changing Day at our house over the weekend. I grabbed the screwdriver, being careful to use the business end of it for the project. That may not seem like a big deal to you home improvement experts, but I have been known to select the wrong tool for the job as well as use the wrong end of it for the task at hand. Using a screwdriver and not drawing blood — usually my own — is D signifiFDnW DFFRmSOisKment.
I had put two knobs in place, one by a cabinet nearest the dishwasher and one by a cabinet nearest the refrigerator. bverything went smoothly and I was preparing to install the others.
“Wait, I’m not liking the way those knobs are looking,” said The Blonde Accountant. “Don’t put the rest of them on just yet.”
Knob Changing Day turned into Knob Changing Weekend as The BORnGH $FFRunWDnW OHW WKRsH fiUsW two knobs ferment in the kitchen for another 24 hours, just to make sure they were the ones she wanted.
On Day 2 of Knob Changing WHHNHnG, , finisKHG swiWFKing RuW the rest of the knobs and things appeared both hunky and dorey. At least to me. “vou know, those knobs are making the kitchen countertops look pretty dated,” she said.
Ahhhhhh! If I had any hair left, iW wRuOG EH Rn fiUH. , FDn’W wDiW until we get around to redoing the bathrooms.
Mike Morsch is executive editor of Montgomery Media and author of the book, “Dancing in My Underwear: The Soundtrack of My Life.” He can be reached by calling 215-542-0200, ext. 415 or by email at email@example.com. This column can also be found at www.montgomerynews.com.
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