Last week when I had a few hours free I broke out a can of Hunter Green paint I had picked up on sale and repainted all the baseboards and trim in the kitchen, as well as the window sill and all the interior wood. The kitchen is now white with various shades of green and black. And with that, I have eradicated almost the last bit of evidence that They Who Will Not Be Named ever lived here. One of them, in a rare burst of actually lifting a finger around here, decided to "help out" and paint the kitchen. Which actually resulted in great gobs of paint being slapped up and dripped all over the tile floor, the stove, the bar and various appliances. When all was said and done, my kitchen was a horrid shade of beige with baby-shit yellow baseboards and wood trim.
Over the course of the last year I've been replacing all the store bought photo prints in the kitchen with my own, repainting the walls and taking down pot racks and spice shelves. I made the gayest new spice rack out of a metal NYC Subway sign and some magnetic spice holders. I KNOW! Now that I've re-painted the wood trim, all I have left to do is re-surface the bar top (maybe copper) and paint the wood a darker shade. Oh, and get the other dog to stop peeing in there.
While I was at it, I used the link that Will and someone else clued me in on for finding replacements for your kitchen china, and finally ordered up a replacement for the coffee cup that was so carelessly broken and never mentioned (or apologized for), as well as a plate that was subsequently broken. I once again have a complete service of matching dinnerware for six, which I will probably never use, as the odds of me liking six people enough to invite them for dinner all at the same time are almost incalculable. But that's not the point. The point is that I own grown up dinnerware should I need it, and my kitchen has not a trace of baby-shit color anywhere. Just dog pee.