This is the last Thanksgiving post, I swear.

It's just that I had such a great time at home, which really isn't my home and I didn't even step foot in a house that I ever spent any quality time in because my mom is in the third house since the one we lived in when I was in high school and my grandmother is in the home and my dad is long gone outta town and I didn't go to my aunts and uncles or friends' parents and I didn't go to any stores or bars or restaurants, even though I planned to.

It was just good to be home in the town I grew up in. 

We all cooked Thanksgiving Proper in my mom's house.  My mom had both her kids and their families under her roof for the day.  And the cat.  Can't forget Impy.  She's 17 years old but too silly to realize she's old.
Turkey and stuffing and mashed potatoes and yamallows and lasagna and crescent rolls and two kinds of green bean casseroles and artichoke dip and and and.

I knew that I was completely and utterly grown up the minute I realized that my kitchen is better than my moms.  It's laid out better, it's bigger, and it has all sorts of gadgets and pans and pots and baking dishes and serving platters and stuff like that.  Her's?  Not so much.

I missed my kitchen.

My kitchen that is almost done, save for a shelf installation.  A shelf installation that I should have up by Christmas.
Wallpaper has been stripped, paint applied, countertops and sink replaced, and backsplash installed.
And I did it All. By. Myself.
Except for the countertop installation.  And demolition.
Sometimes a lady has to let a gentleman step in.

See (click to embiggen)?

The shelf will go right up above here.  That's the table from my great grandma's farm house and the sugar bowl is part of my grandma's set and the chairs belonged to a friend's grandparents.  The fishbowl I stole from Manny Brown's a million years ago in a drunken act of vandalism.  I also ate cigarette butts that night on a dare, so that about lets you know how bad off I have to be to steal something.  Don't ask.  Oh, and that string of pearls on top?  I wore those to my senior prom.
That's Jake's tie on the back of the chair.  He can't get enough it, and has two more.  He wears them to work daycare on the days he feels like helping out with the babies.
And aren't those pictures on the weird diagonal thing just precious?
Here's a close up:

The shelf brackets will match the frames.  I have some bird prints that match the flowers, but birds in the kitchen seemed yucky.

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Don't you love the old daVinci print?  I got it at a thrift store for pennies and the colors are really bright.  It's hard to tell here because I have the World's Crappiest Camera, but I'll show you next time you're over.  Every Good South Philly Kitchen has one.
Yo mama's so old she was the cocktail waitress at the last supper.

***

Stove.  Yawn.
I wish it was white or stainless steel.  I'm not so much of a fan of the black appliances.
I am so much of a fan of the old avocado ones.  But I don't even think they make those anymore.

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I just couldn't get the color right in this picture.  The backsplash is brushed silvery.  I didn't repaint my cabinets, they are still holding up pretty well from when I did them five years ago.  I wanted new drawer pulls, but I can't find any that I love that screw in from the front like those do.  Everything I like, you just poke through and put a nut and washer in from the back.  That's not going to work.  Oh well.

Don't you just love my busted up Mary doll? 

We have long talks while I do the dishes.

She hangs out by the fauxfern and the bowl of beads.  I told her the fern is a palm tree.  You know, to remind her of the Middle East where she grew up.  I don't tell her what it's like over there now.  She's old and I don't want to upset her.
Mostly we just talk about our kids and stuff.
We both love open toed sandals and hoodies, so sometimes we talk about clothes and shoes.
She was the one who suggested I use olive oil instead of hair conditioner.  That's what they did back then.
We talk about all sorts of things.
Girl stuff, you know.

Those are the glass beads I found at a sidewalk sale, and that  bowl was a wedding present to my parents from my grandparents.
The best part about when your parent get divorced?  You get all the good stuff because they don't ever want to see it again.
I like to look at this stuff while I do the dishes.

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Microwave and fridge, butter dish and red tinsel.  Not exciting, but I couldn't leave you with a half tour.

So what do you think?
I've been keeping you involved with this from the start.  Do you think I held true to the original inspiration?  I veered a bit, but I really love it.
When are you coming over for dinner?