So as many of you already know, we’re currently living in a construction site. Sort of.

More realistically speaking, we are actually living in only half of our house. Which means almost all of the furniture from one half of the house has been pushed and prodded and moved into the other half of the house, along with four human beings and two (very noisy) little white dogs.

It’s a little cramped and a little hectic.

But we’re surviving. I think.

Unsurprisingly, the weirdest part is walking (carefully) into my kitchen and seeing no floor. Craziness.

(And yes, by some move of architectural brilliance, we have no full basement, and in its stead, a tiny, dark crawl space underneath our floorboards. Again, craziness.)

It’s been a good kind of hectic and crazy. With all the right light, dizzy things you can laugh at.

Like eating on the couches and carpet and watching your dogs beg from you.

And watching TV with furniture obstructing your view.

And taking turns reenacting conversations between Hilary Farr and her contractor as we rip up floors and find problems like leaking dishwasher pipes.

It’s all very fun.

But I really can’t wait to get back into my kitchen.