Mom, Joe and I looked at 80 slabs in the warehouse before settling on this one.
Here's Al, who drew the short straw at work one morning and had to make templates for rectangular counters in a round house. He and our contractor Joe did a brilliant job of making the counters look sleek and perfectly fitted to the space.
That black vein in the granite swirls around the corner like it's meant to be there. SO PRETTY!
I wish I knew all the Spanish curse words it took to get our granite in place. This particular slab won the curse-like-a-sailor award, though. The slab was 1/2-inch too big, and it broke in half when they put it in place. So it'll be another week before they come out to replace it.
The granite arrives in the back of a truck, with three guys to install it. There are just three slabs for our entire kitchen, which i find rather hard to believe.
Disclaimer: My day job is not responsible for this blog. That said, I'm the managing editor at a national political magazine, which sounds respectable but really just means I work my ass off in exchange for the time of my life.
