I crocheted a little rug for the kitchen recently. It’s at the sink, so whoever is doing the dishes can scrape and wash and rinse in comfort. I made it from two old sheets.
The main part is a light green sheet that now has flecks of white on it. And a few little brown ones. The flecks? They’re paint.
But not just any paint. The flecks of white are from the crown molding we put up in the kitchen. One of the finishing touches after the burst pipe and the raining ceiling and all the demolition and reconstruction that followed. Demolition was easy. It was the putting back together that dragged on us and dragged us down at times and pretty much snapped and nipped at the legs of our marriage for a while.
The pine board ceiling we put up is beautiful. And I try to only see that, but at certain spots in the ceiling, looking at certain boards, I see whatever monster it is that lurks beyond endless frustration. I see his increasingly short temper and my anxiety attacks that feel – I mean felt – like sharp edges rocks in my chest. I see a ton of his hard work, and, after everything, I see the giant relief once we’d figured out WHY THOSE DAMN BOARDS WOULDN’T FIT TOGETHER LIKE THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO.
And we survived. Not gracefully. But we survived.
One of the last things we had to do, after putting up the ceiling and then touching up all paint we’d dinged in the process, was to tie it all together with crown molding. We found a simple, pretty design at a discount lumber place for less than a dollar a foot. It was already primed, too. We brought it home and painted it immediately, using a couple of old sheets as drop cloths. One of them was that light green sheet. And I thought it would be cool to use that sheet for a little rug in the kitchen eventually.
So I did. The rug wasn’t big enough, though, so I had to add to it. I had a green and cream striped sheet that went well with our kitchen color scheme, so I finished it with that.
And that’s the back story of the little rug in our kitchen.