The good news is you probably won’t get the munchies when you peek into our cupboards. The bad news is that I’m going to have to figure out what to do about lunch here pretty soon.
It’s not all bad, though. I’ve learned to love being the chief chef in our house. (Write that ten times!)
That’s our kitchen here in the ol’ recycled tire house. Behind all those plastered walls are tires. The ceiling beams are lumber killed by pine beetle. Martin and I don’t use most of this kitchen. Coming from a 36-square-foot space in Berlin, we just haven’t quite figured out a need for a big kitchen.