My Kitchen Wall is Finally Happy!

Back when I posted about my first sort-of upcycle, I hinted that one day I would post a final "after" shot of everything up on the wall. The wait is over, loyal reader; that day has come.

Actually, please wait eight minutes longer while I go chase my daughter back to bed.

Also to prolong the agony, I thought I'd share that I totally just mistook a small toy walrus for a piece of poop in the bottom of one of my kids' bags. Because that is a totally plausible place to find that sort of thing. Welcome to my world.

But seriously, here is the gloriousness of my kitchen wall, complete with twenty-nine square inches of writable space and the craftiest little menu board you ever did see. The cast iron skillet just completes the vision of hominess, doesn't it? That wooden bread box was a particularly awesome flea market find in the mountains of southern Virginia for just $5 (I originally typed $55 due to my ongoing Vacuum Cleaner Wrist issues, but that is not nearly as enviable a bargain, is it?).

I know the menu board is just a liiiiittle bit north of where it should be, but there are some things you don't tell your husband when he has just finagled all eighty pounds of this stuff onto the wall and hung the menu board twice in the process. He technically put it where I asked, as the tops of the skillet and menu board are aligned, so it isn't his fault he doesn't have the incessant perfectionism aesthetic eye that I do. I will quietly move the nail sometime when he is off doing more important things.

Don't you love how I tidied the buffet for the picture but left shoes all over the floor in the background? Ah, honesty, you get me every time.