Our kitchen is a space that I have barely shown to y’all because ever since we moved in, it’s been a space that I’ve cringed at the sight of every time I walk into the room.
It’s a great kitchen, don’t get me wrong. I’m very thankful that it’s less of a fixer upper spot than other rooms in the house.
But there was this one “drop center” shelf on the wall that was nothing but a clutter catcher. It was a deceiving little thing, looking all innocent and making promises to us like, “I’ll keep all of your mail sorted and take care of your keys so you know exactly where to find them and we’ll be best friends forever and ever and live happily ever after.”
Oh, but that shelf lied. Lied! Shelves like that are my nemesis because they hardly ever deliver real organization.
Last weekend, Robert and I finally ripped it down and bid farewell to those super snazzy shamrock cut-outs, and we discovered a quirky surprise behind it. Well, hello there fruity wallpaper. (Truth be told, I love finding stuff like this. It makes me wonder so much about this house and the families who lived here before us. If only wallpaper could talk.)
So I ripped and patched and painted my heart out (asked the wallpaper if it had any great stories to tell from years past, but no luck), and we hung up its replacements that I’m confident will be less of a clutter catcher.