Kitchen before

I started dealing with the upstairs kitchen today. Since this little slip of a room has not been used in many years, and since all those years ago its primary function was "dark room," I have to pick and paw through many bottles of toxic chemicals, all of which are contained in glass or plastic and are, in my opinion, more toxic than ever since they are at least twenty years old. Without further adjective, my kitchen:




And here is one of the cabinets filled with toxic agents:





And here is one of the inexplicably placed piece of what I am guessing is dining room furniture (it is filled with moth balls - open this thing and you will singe your eyeballs):



Here is one of the opposite counter top:



And the finale, the roach cemetery that is the sink:



Yes, I really do get to clean all this up. I have to work on this project as quietly as possible so as no to alert Bob and Kate that I might be throwing out something that belongs to them, even the corpses of their roaches; therefore, I have to empty out this space and box every worthless thing in it, find a way to store all the garbage, and then clean the hell out of the cabinets and counters and THEN put in a microwave, a toaster oven, and a dish drain all without them detecting my activities. None of these installations can be accomplished until Thanksgiving Day, when Bob and Kate will be out of the house (thank you Jesus) and I can get away with buying these things and bringing them home. (Note: if I buy so much as a Q-tip, they give me a hard time for wasting my money on Q-tips when they would have been happy to give me theirs. More on that issue later).

Love,

Aelalea