I left out a few things for breakfast (the toaster, the butter, the honey), and the bread machine is still doing its thing.
Cleaning a room out for painting feels intimate to me. I spend a lot of time in the kitchen, and it felt good to clean off every single surface and get into every little corner. (But not inside the drawers or cabinets, for now, except for the freestanding cabinet, which they will have to move. Ugh.) Tomorrow afternoon the kitchen will be the same color, but without the white splotches left there from two years ago when we had the new lights installed, and greatly freshened up all around.
Everything that is normally on the countertops, on the walls, or hanging from baskets or the pot rack is now in the basement.
These shelves are normally my pantry, but not normally so full.
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