Stones in the Road

I'm a hopeless romantic. I live for colorful memories and the hopeful "what ifs." My entire life has spent imagining, dreaming. This house was no exception. I've already told you that I had the wall colors picked before we even knocked our the first wall, that the gold in the dining room was dreamed up somewhere between my cheap gold jewelry and the a number of flea market mirrors I've admired. But the kitchen? Those ideas have been flowing long since this project even began. Some girls dream about the man they'll marry or the kids they'll have. Some girls dream for years about their weddings. Me? I've been dreaming about a kitchen.

Last year, I committed to a gray kitchen, and in the process of picking a particular cabinet color (aka 50,000 shades of gray), Todd and I visited a local granite yard to chose our counter tops or at least get some ideas flowing. We thought when we left that day that we had it all figured out. But, my friends, when you live with someone who is as pathetically romantic and indecisive as me, it's never that easy.

Now, I've always loved marble. Who doesn't love marble? It's historic, timeless, beautiful, shimmery, classic. But before I even stepped foot into that stone yard, I gave up marble. You see, I have two geologists in my family. Marble, they will tell me time and time again, is soft, marble is porous. Marble stains, marble scratches, marble etches. Marble is bad for a kitchen counter, they say.

So when we visited that day, I adverted my eyes from the carrara, the calacatta. I tried so, so hard to ignore my desires and looked for all the prettiest quartzite and granite instead, but then, there amongst the granite was the most beautiful gray stone. It was dark grey with craggy circular patches and deep white veins and unlike all the granite we had seen, it was truly beautiful. When the saleswoman told us it was a particularly hard marble/quartzite blend that "acted just like granite," I was sold. So I called my sister. She took one look at the photo I sent her and told me, "it's just marble. It may be dolomitic marble, but it's still marble. It's still going to etch." I returned to the yard disheartened and settled on a particulary lovely slab of Typhoon White Granite. It was...well, fine.

Typhoon White Granite

I returned to the yard nearly a year later with a painted cabinet door sample in hand to settle on a slab with my mom, this time for real. When we stumbled across the same dolomitic marble, the sales lady gave us her pitch again to which my mom replied, "So it might etch. Just be careful." And then she uttered my favorite phrase, "Just ignore your sister." It was done. The marble of my dreams would be mine! I spent the remainder of the day randomly breaking out into happy dances.

Vermont White Marble - The winner for a day

Arabascato Vagli marble (GORGEOUS, but a little pricey for my budget)

But like I said, it's never that easy. Mom called the next day at while I was at work. Dad said the marble would etch. She'd done research, talked with Kelsey (ie Kelsey sent at least 43 pages of information on how bad marble is for counter), and that counter just was not happening. I considering for a brief moment crying into the vial drawer, but kept it together and decided to vent to my co-worker instead.

So we visited more yards, we looked online, we compared and contrasted and did the research (testing samples of materials with acids at home). Everything in my practical self said to go for granite. It's pretty, durable, and will last in a home where your husband assumes that Lyle will also lick messes off the counter.

I tried to be practical, people, I really did.

I spent all week debating, but in the end my heart won out. After reading this particular article and then the follow up, I realized that it's not just the marble now that I want to love, but the marble of my future. Those etches, those stains, those scratches - will I even care? Honed marble is just gorgeous. Does anyone look at the statue of David and think, "Wow, he's really scratched up over there...." - really? Do you ever go into a historic house and think about how the marble floors need a "touch up?" Worn marble is just as stunning (albeit in its own way) as brand new marble.

So that's that. Marble it is. And now that I've settled into the idea that my countertops will not be perfectly smooth and unused, I can move away from the more dense White Vermont into the whole range of glittery white stones. Carrara, Calacutta, who knows!

So yeah, granite is practical, sure, but marble is romantic.