Most of the marble at the salvage yard that is large enough for kitchen counters or an island is reclaimed from bathroom walls… Public bathroom walls.
Is this repulsive? It is.
Could I somehow block that out of my mind and prepare food on it? Yes. I could.
This makes no sense to Paul, seeing as how I will not let people wear their shoes in our house.
But contamination issues don’t matter anyway because the marble is no bargain. It’s beautiful and subtle and the perfect shade of grey and out of a historic building… but Philadelphia’s salvage yards have become a mecca for every designer-spending-someone-else’s-money/restaurateur/people who could afford to do everything new, but instead decide to pay EVEN MORE to have everything be old. Basically people just like me… but with money.
So everything is expensive and people buy it anyway. Which I understand completely for a GFT… but even the dime-a-dozen-on-Craigslist-nothing-special-other-than-being-old pedestal sinks are pricey.
And it makes me sad that I will not be the one to have my kitchen counters sanctified by the Catholic Church.
Not only are these slabs CRAZY thick and SUPER white… you ALSO get the cachet of being associated with The Holy Roman Empire– dubious social mores, but plenty of flair.
If these were my countertops, when Paul and I got in an argument I could say things like – bring me the flaming cannonballs. The ones with chains.
Or possibly just have him beheaded.
Plus. There is a special spot to store snacks for Elvis.
Keeping with the religious theme, I also tried to convince Paul that we should buy the entire marble altar from a church, (on Craigslist).
But I could not get him to engage with me except to say – that would be a LOT of marble.
Which, obviously is the entire point– if we bought this, we would have ALL the marble we would ever need… No matter what, we would NEVER RUN OUT OF MARBLE.
Another thing I took a picture of at the salvage yard were these steel casement windows. At the time I thought they would be interesting upper-cabinet doors.
But Paul said – not everything needs to be interesting, Victoria.
I am pretty sure he is wrong about that. But I do agree that the cabinet-idea didn’t stand up to scrutiny.
All right, that’s it for this week. I have this huge, boring, anxiety-inducing thing hanging over my head… Which I can no longer procrastinate.
I have even looked on New York Craigslist—my favorite way to waste time and dig myself a bigger hole… There is no way I want to drive five hours to upstate New York for anything. But my brain would RATHER do that than sit down and finish something.
I suffer from some bizarre form of self-loathing. Where I choose to distract myself by digging a random, pointless, giant pit in the desert. Even though the entire time I am asking myself – WHY AM I DIGGING THIS HOLE IN THE DESERT?
IT IS SO HOT.
THERE IS NOTHING HERE BUT SAND.