Now that the giant red oaks that were looming over our house have been removed my wife is proceeding with her home improvement plans.

The most recent project involves remodeling the kitchen (this doesn't include the pending yard work caused by all the stump grinding.)

She gets these ideas from watching those home improvement shows on television. My wife is addicted to do-ityourself and home improvement shows. She is forever talking about this, that and the other thing she saw on one of those episodes.

A typical conversation after I get home from work will inevitably turn to Bob Vila and/or something nice she saw in a Lowe's ad. My wife is a big Bob Vila fan — and an even bigger Lowe's fan. The store here would shut down like the Miami airport in a snowstorm if my wife ever

stops pursuing her projects. I like Lowe's as much as the next guy, but my wife spends every waking moment there. The other day she sent me down to Lowe's to pick up some additional tiles for this border thing she has planned for the wall areas around the sink, called it a "splash something or other."

"I need you to pick up four more of these for me," she said, handing me a little square of porcelain.

So I went into Lowe's and I went back to where the countertop stuff is (she told me exactly how to get there because she has the store floor plan memorized) and I showed the lady the piece of tile and she says, "Oh yeah. Your wife was just in here and bought some of these."

So see, they apparently know her by name, or at least by appearance. The next thing you know, they'll be naming a department after her. They already call her every time a new shipment of lumber comes in. I don't know what that's all about. I reckon she just likes to be there when major deliveries arrive.

Anyway, when this kitchen renovation project idea first surfaced, she asked me if it would be OK if she made some changes to how the kitchen looked.

I'm thinking a fresh coat of paint and a new electric can opener. "It's fine with me," I said, "BUT (and this is the disclaimer I ALWAYS use when one of her projects comes up) just leave me out of it. I'm not hammering any nails, I'm not gluing, painting, sanding, polishing, installing, adjusting, wiring or otherwise altering in any way any material, surface, gadget, gizmo, or item of any kind."

And she agreed.

And I figured she would hire a person to do this or that part of her project and her dad would handle some of it and I would proceed with my normal life none the worse for wear or trouble.

But then I came home from the golf course a couple of Saturday's ago and — MOST OF THE WALL BETWEEN THE KITCHEN AND THE DEN WAS MISSING.

It was gone.

Not the whole wall, mind ya, but most of it. And that's the side the refrigerator and range are on.

It appears part of her remodeling concept involved cutt-ing out half of that wall and adding an L-shaped counter/bar on that side of the room. To achieve this objective required some major structural work, not to mention REWIRING THE WHOLE KITCHEN.

And not only that, but to make room for the new flooring and some other changes, almost all of the furniture in the kitchen and dining room have been moved and stacked in the living room. It looks like somebody picked up one end of my house and everything on the lifted-up side just slid into the middle.

Not only that, but now I can't find anything to eat because everything has been moved. Not that I knew how to find my way around the kitchen in the first place, but I used to at least be able to find the Wheaties and now those are missing.

It's all very confusing. The other day, the dog came in from outside and couldn't find his food dish. He looked at the missing wall, packed his bags and moved out.

But this will all be over soon, right? And everything will be back to normal, right?

This is all Bob Vila's fault. I suppose he won't mind coming over and helping me find my Wheaties.

And to Oreo, the Wonder Border Collie, please come home. We miss you.

Klonie Jordan (editor@gaffneyledger.com) is executive editor of The Gaffney Ledger.