Stairs FTW

We all make tough decisions. Beef or chicken? Blonde or brunette? Match.com or eHarmony? Some of those decisions lead us down a path of no return. Some of those decisions will last a lifetime, just ask Jess.

The tough part about buying an old home is the delicate balancing act between form and function. Over the last three weeks I have become a purist snob. "Restoration above all else!" is my rallying cry. Jess is way more level headed and practical. As we embark on this major renovation, we are forced to make decisions about the kitchen relatively quickly. When you walk into a house and the kitchen looks like the next picture, you realize, something must give. One of those lucky doors (all original, all in a row) leads to the butler's (or in our case, maid's) stairs. In the, "I-don't-give-a-crap-tear-it-down-or-replace-it world," the stairs are an easy way to create space for a better, more modern kitchen. Of course it makes sense to tear them out. This house isn't a mansion, I can easily walk to the stairs 20 feet away and be no worse for the wear. Jess wanted them gone. I'd of rather lived with the mouse filled poop ceiling kitchen than lose those stairs.

A few things happened on the way to my victory. One, everyone that's ever been in this house remembers the stairs. We went to a neighbor's estate sale (more on that in a future post) and she remarked, "Oh my god, those stairs! We searched every nook and cranny and wall in our own house hoping to find a set!" Another wise soul said, "Those stairs are a hallmark of a great, old house." Comment by comment, Jess saw the light. Two, the removal of the drop ceiling to reveal nearly 10 feet of height made a huge different in the space. Whereas in the past we worried about cabinet space, that was no longer a problem. Although it is clear that we will have to spend more on bringing the cabinets to the ceiling (don't forget the crown moldings!), it will solve that problem. Three, never underestimate the ability to wear someone down with a combination of bullshit and whining. Mixed evenly, of course. After a few weeks, she said, "Keep the stairs. They'll be great."

It's not that she didn't want to keep them, it's just that she's right - the house is more functional without a second set of stairs. No matter, though. Victory is mine.

Beef, brunette, and Match.com for those of you keeping score at home.