My kitchen cabinet door has been quite busy. It spent the day traipsing around middle Tennessee stone yards, looking for a marble slab that was at least 125" long--in other words, Mission Impossible.
Then Lisa found a statuarietto slab that was the right size, with consistent veining. But was it the right slab? Did it look okay with the door? How would it look on my Very Long Island?
Here I am, wild of hair and (not so) wild at heart, wondering if my cabinet door is too creamy, or if the marble is too cool and gray.
The white-white melon knob happened to be in my purse, so I tried it on the door. (These knobs are going in another room.)
Lisa also brought a piece of trim, and we angled the door, trying to outwit the florescent lighting.
On the next row, we found light brown fantasy quartzite and another marble slab--both were too small.
Zap, the decorating Yorkie, was taking notes.
Next stop: a vagli slab.
The door traveled to a different yard--to a different slab of Vagli. This one wasn't quite as white.
The door continued its journey. It was a bit too white against soapstone; in any event, the slab was too small.
Sequoia quartzite (too short, alas).
The door and a smeary slab of Danby.
A slab of Lasa from Northern Italy.
Bandwidth wandered off. He made an interesting discovery in the back of the warehouse--a 128-inch slab. It had been mislabeled as 123-inches, but the beauty of the stone made him take a second look. Lisa helped him measure--the slab was tucked away, hidden by other slabs. Forgotten. And found by bird dog Bandy. We think it has a story to tell.
The bottom portion of the slab was hidden--would the rest be lovely? Or riddled with buckshot, fissures, or other problems? Since time was slipping away, we put everything on hold and drove home. But we'll be back.
Have door. Will travel.