Birthing a kitchen

One of the great joys of this project -- probably the greatest joy -- has been meeting wonderful people, with terrific skills and humanity to match.

Today was a case in point.

I'd been dreading the cabinet installers -- all the pages and pages of disclaimers and warnings I'd had to sign made me a bit apprehensive. But when Tim and Alonzo got to the house this morning, I forgot about paperwork and discovered two professionals whose goal was to make sure I was happy and the job was done with grace, care and incredible attention to detail.

They'd left Miami before dawn so they could be here for a 9 a.m. appointment. We broke out the work lights about 5. They were still smiling when they pulled out at 7:30; they'd be lucky to be home by 11.

Tim makes fine cabinets and furniture for a living (his website is here, and it's certainly worth a look), but also installs the factory goods we'd ordered. He does it with the same care as if he'd crafted every component, with the eye and hand of an artist.

Lorenzo, his assistant, is a solid right hand: adjusting this, maneuvering that into position, tying up the loose ends on something else.

As the day went on and our kitchen was born, Tim remarked that I seemed so much more relaxed than others he'd met at a similar stage of construction.

I shrugged it off at the time, but it occurs to me now that the people I dealt with today help show the reason why: all the Stafford team, Stacey the kitchen and bath equipment lady (I picked up all the sinks and faucets from her today), Marc and Dennis the tile guys (I re-confirmed the granite man with them), Tawny the kitchen designer (who wants to inspect the installation). . . .

That's just today, and the list for the whole project is a long one. Every name on it reminds me that I really need to give thanks for the people who have helped us realize a dream.

So thanks, Tim; thanks, Alonzo, for a beautiful day.