The day got off to a deceptively ordinary start. I just wanted to install a magnetic knife bar. Maybe organize the spice cupboard, which totally sounds like an avoidance maneuver - "I'm sorry, I need to stay home and organize the spice rack!" - but I honestly needed to suck it up and do something about the enormous mess that was my spice shelf.
The knife bar installation meant cutting boards had to be relocated. Spice cupboard reorganization also turned into a relocation project - and why do I have 3 jars of cloves?
Relocation of spices meant moving oils and vinegars (and I apparently have a vinegar problem, good lord), which meant shifting pasta, and for some reason, bread pans and mini-muffin tins that were stashed above the pasta.
I turned to Beck and his new album for support at this point. Giddyup.
The new Beck album is very dancey and I decided in the name of safety that I probably shouldn't be on the step stool (and let's face it, the counter too), plus the muffin tins were bothering me so I tackled the cupboards under the island thinking I should have most of the baking things in one spot.
This meant relocating the tupperware - if you are a millennial this is old people code for plastic food storage containers. And that led, of course, to going through all the containers and lids, and I ended up with containers with no lids which were perfect for storing all the food processor and mandolin (the slicer, not the instrument) bits, so I did that cupboard too.
Beck had run out of steam at this point. So had I, but my kitchen now looked like this:
I sent that photo to Son #1:
What's happening is your mother is insane, that's what's happening. Don't try this at home kids!
The muffin tins are no longer bothering me. It's still raining. The spices are kinda sorta organized. And the new Beck album is great.