I reckon I mentioned that we's been wrestlin' our outdated kitchen. Who-whee, ya'll tried to cook yore vittles in a fireplace recently? Well, then, ya'' knows why it were finally time to git
us 'uns a makeover.
Above is gonna be Uncle 's own sink (Icemaker too). Ain't done yet--got some copper tiles comin' fer the backsplash to go wif' this hammered copper beauty. Now he can keep to his side of the kitchen so I can sling some hash wif'out splatterin' his smiley face.
Oh, but sweet thangs, looky looky! Heah is MAH copper sink:
Thang is, copper is antibacterial. Cleaner than stainless.
And below is a shot of whar' the dish washer is supposed to live--but had to wire and put in more water lines fer icemaker thangs...
Adjacent is the hardworkin' laundry and storage area. Heck, I been makin' cawfee out heah on the washin' machine during all this whoop-de-do! But, looky ya'll--shelves galore--floor to ceilin', so we have a plenty of stash space fer all them thangs ya don't need but think ya' do.
see--to the ceilin'!
I has a real love fer copper. Jes' love the stuff. Been amassing a fair amount of it over the years. I hangs it whar'ever I can find a spot.
It's so old world: mankind been cookin' in copper fer thousands of years.
I have some fun molds, like this fish one below what I done found in Villedieu-les-Poeles in Normandy. Yep, yore high school French is rusty, but ya's readin' it right: Village of God of the Sauce Pan. (hey Big Shamu--ya need to go thar'!)
This village dates from 14th century, an' makes its livin' on copper. They's famous fer bells--in fact, many folks went deaf durin' the Middle Ages from listenin' to the hammer blows on copper and bells.
But oh, the lovely sound of the bells! Listen:
Natcherly, they makes other thangs too--like the statue of the copper girl child at the top of this post. Originally settled by Knights of Malta on a grant from Henry 1st of England, today it is a delightful detour on the way to or from Mont St. Michel.
Well, this next resident of the kitchen ain't copper, but terra cotta thas' got a bronze wash. It came from the Paris Flea Market--it is a basket of orphan babies--ya know, like Oliver Twist, wee ones dumped on some Lordship's doorstep.
A close-up of two of the babies.
Sure wish't I could git all ya'll down heah and we'd cook it up in this kitchen wif' it's new face lift.
What ya'll want me to cook fer ya'?