My kitchen is small. Like, maybe 140 square feet small. Tiny. But I spend a lot of time in here, both because I’m starting to really enjoy cooking and because the kitchen is the best spot in the house for picking up my neighbor’s internet connection. For the last year and a half, I’ve had my counter set up like this:

With the dish drainer half-tucked under a cabinet. In theory, this meant that I could dry bowls and short cups under the cabinet, and plates in the slots in front of the cabinet. In practice, the plates prevented me from opening that particular cabinet door. Which prevented me from being able to put the dishes away. Ever.

I don’t know why the solution to this problem didn’t occur to me for, you know, eighteen months, but the morning after Thanksgiving I woke up knowing what I needed: open shelving! So my four-day weekend was absorbed by yet another home improvement project. I even ventured into IKEA on Black Friday. Terrifying.



It was worth it, though. With about $100 and three days, I slapped this solution together:

Now the dish drainer doesn’t block anything. In fact, it folds up when I’m finished so I can reclaim my pathetic four feet of counter space!

The only problem is that now everyone can see my dishes. My horrible, mismatched, half-from-Wal-Mart-and-half-trashpicked-already-chipped-from-an-old-neighbor’s-curb collection of dishes. This is serious broke-ass college student stuff, here. Needless to say, classic simple white dishware is now on my Christmas list.

It’s cold out, yo. Maybe not so much today, but my thermostat told me yesterday that my internal house temperature was 58 degrees (you can tell how much I hate paying for heat). Anyway, it was time to take the garden down, and that’s what I’ve worked on for the last day or two.

I got a few more quirky peppers!

All that’s left now is some lettuce, this crazy mess of sugar snap peas…

…and this one giant tomato vine, which exploded like a plant possessed sometime after the growing season should have ended.

I have suspicions that this one managed to bust a root through the bottom of its pot and through a crack in the concrete below, where it is now feeding on radioactive subterranean Philly waste. I’m leaving it up as a science experiment.

As I was chopping up and composting my dead plants, I kept a careful eye out for mantis egg sacs. Figured I must have one around here, somewhere, considering that I couldn’t pick a veggie all summer long without disturbing a mantis. They’re smarter than to plant their babies-to-be on a flimsy tomato plant, though. I found this thing on my fence:

Looks like the population is secure for next year!

On my last tomato plant, I found the mother mantis herself. She hadn’t really strayed from my backyard all year. And since I’d grown fond of having her around, and it’s getting cold out there (did I mention that?), I did what any true weirdo would do and brought her inside.

I got Carolina some crickets and a black fly, which she caught in about 45 seconds. Damn, these little monsters are quick.

I actually had a pet mantis as a kid for a while. The adults only live about 6 months, and I think my last one made it to January before dying, fat and warm, of old age. Well, I suppose “warm” is a relative concept in this house…