In case you didn't know it already, I live in a log cabin. Yes, a real Lincoln-Logs style cabin (made with real wood!). Now as with any house, log cabin or not, there are pros and cons. The Pros include an enormous wrap-around porch, a stone fireplace that touches the ceiling, and the ability to make your friends say, "You actually live here?" whenever they come over. The Cons include poor lighting, the inability to hang a picture frame on a wall/log without it being crooked, and a lack of adequate cabinet space in the kitchen.
In hindsight, that last complaint has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that my home is a cabin. I guess any home could lack cabinet space but, please, I digress.
Anyway, while we were scoping out the house a few years ago, we were so sucked up by the rustic charm that swallows you whole as soon as you walk in the door that we overlooked a few quirks. Like, that there are no linen closets in the bathrooms. (Jumbo baskets stuffed with towels for a "spa" look? Done.) Or that you can hear someone whispering right below you but you can't hear a damn thing even if your husband is shouting at you down the hall. (How do acoustics work horizontally vs. vertically? This is a mystery to me. Also, I do not know anything about Physics. I can say this with confidence because in college I signed up for "Physical Science" thinking it had something to do with anatomy. You know, like physical being the body. Not so much.)
But being the little cooky that I am, the biggest problem was with the pantry. Well, the lack thereof. You see, I have no idea what the original blueprint was for this place, but what the previous owner referred to as the pantry (I keep mistyping and putting "panty" instead. Immature giggles.) was really just a slip of a closet stuck between the backside of the fridge and the hallway bathroom. The door to it is probably less than 18 inches wide and it has a pathetically weak magnet that refuses to hold the wooden door shut. Oh, we've got cabinets, sure. But they're stuffed with every kitchen appliance you can imagine, a plethora of dishes and about 38743 pieces of stemless glassware (for some reason, all our wedding guests assumed me to be a drunkard) - I mean, there's barely room for my bags of Sun Chips and jars of Nutella in there.
We tried to make it work, really, we did. But when you're buying flour in ten-pound bags and you like to have at least five bags of chocolate chips on hand at all times and of course you'll need multiple types of sugar for all sorts of baking, etc....you run out of room. You start putting your canned goods in the lazy susan where they collect dust and knock over bottles of sesame oil then you wonder why your kitchen reeks like a bad Chinese restaurant for days on end. It's a problem.
But here's the awesome sauce - my Dad is a brilliant carpenter. We took a trip to Lancaster, PA for a little inspiration and I stumbled upon an oversized pantry that I just had to have, but you don't just go around buying expensive furniture when your Dad can build it for you, that just wouldn't make sense. So fast forward several weeks, a bunch of long nights covered in sawdust, plus an early morning delivery in the misty rain and BOOM. I've got a brand spankin' new pantry. I'm totally pumped because not only does the free up the jail cell we currently use for strict dedication to baking supplies exclusively, but I know we'll have it forever and I love telling guests that my Dad made it and I get to gush a while about how talented he is. I know it will be in our home forever and ever.
Thanks so much, Dad. You are so talented at so many things and this is just one of them (the others being the ability to maintain a mustache for thirty years and turning any sentence into a bad pun). Love you!