galley
#33
8 June 2025
Dear Jana,
Staying on theme, we call the Anchorage kitchen our galley.
Our ground floor layout is comprised of three rooms: library, guestroom, galley. The galley is a spacious, unorthodox area that includes two porch or lean-to alcoves that were built on to the house and eventually enclosed. One offshoot is split into an entryway, laundry closet, and small bathroom (happily leaving the outhouse era behind). The other is an office nook with a sliding glass door that used to open out to a deck before the planks rotted away. We haven’t rebuilt it yet so for now the doors serve as a pretty window. We hung mirrors on the opposite wall to bring in as much light as possible, but even so the galley is usually the coolest, shadiest room since the Jotul keeps the library cozy.



Among my many favorite scullery features are the hardwood maple floors we ordered from friends in Wisconsin. A carpenter friend lent stapler and mallet and my brother helped put in the tongue-and-groove flooring one summer. A couple Christmases ago Brett replaced the chipped formica countertops with acacia butcherblock, which we wax every few seasons. Our kitchen island is a former set prop from Olney Theatre. The wall-length solid-core cupboards have notches cut into the backs for running water, which was installed well after they were originally built. I refinished the lower cupboards, but I’m still torn about whether to put my uppers back on because I like the access and look. Several a visitor has declared her own shelves too disheveled to bare in such a manner, when what she really means is she doesn’t love her dishes enough to arrange and look at them all the live-long day. Well, I do. I’ve embraced my dust.
An under-the-counter refrigerator is the perfect size for us, and is half-empty most of the time besides, though we have a chest freezer in the basement. I love remembering the time we bought an oven off facebook marketplace and the sellers called us back as we were driving away. Please turn around and come take back your money, they told us, we liked you so much.
Galley renovations so far:
Doorways
Walls (reinsulated)
Ceiling (repainted)
Cabinets (refinished)
Countertops
Various light fixtures
Garden window
Appliances
Floor
Unfinished:
Trim
Table
Backsplash
I grow impatient every now and then for completion. There are a host of possibilities outdoors. I could be converting an airstream into a writing cabin already. I tell myself that right now we’re concentrating on the last large piece of restoration for longterm livability in an old farmhouse. The boiler is shot, the plumbing is a maze of decrepitude, and the tub is permanently stained. I know we could limp along as-is without complaint. We’ve made do for a decade scrubbing rust-orange porcelain. But it feels like future residents and guests might appreciate some upgrades. Not too many, of course.
Salvaging is just the way I want to move through the world. Want—and need to.








I loved this: "Please turn around and come take back your money, they told us, we liked you so much." <3
"Our kitchen island is a former set prop from Olney Theatre."
I love this 👆
"I grow impatient every now and then for completion."
This is a pretty universally true statement both spiritually and physically. I felt this one.