We didn’t do much at the house this weekend, but we managed to fit in one big blow-up anyway (we’re nothing if not efficient). The guys are still wiring the hallway, but their circuits overlap into other rooms, so we were suddenly faced with a decision I wasn’t totally prepared for about a light in what is now the living room.
One of the major problems in this house is the lack of a place to eat—no eat-in kitchen or dining area. The previous owners made due with a small table in front of the picture window, so a chandelier hangs in that spot. I, however, think it’s weird to have people walk into your house via the dining room, not to mention eat while on display like department store mannequins.
My tentative goal—pending reality and budget—for Phase II of the renovation, the kitchen-dining-living room area, was to knock down one kitchen wall, opening the floorplan and having an eat-in kitchen or a small dining area toward the back of the house. Somehow, Joe managed to remain completely oblivious to this plan and wanted to hang the chandelier in the same place. And characteristically, as I was calmly trying to sell my plan, he was just screaming.
We eventually sorted out the light, but more importantly, this fight gave me a flash of insight: We need an architect. Preferably, one who minored in psychotherapy. We may not get to Phase II for a few more years, but having a clear plan of attack will make things go infinitely smoother in the meantime. Not to mention having someone else on my side. The search begins!