Ten years ago, we moved out of a house with a big farm kitchen and into a house with a galley kitchen. It took me quite a long time to feel at home working in that space. I blogged about feeling scrunched, displaced and disquieted, despite how functional and well-appointed that little kitchen was.

Last month, we moved into a townhouse with a spacious kitchen that had been updated just like on HGTV. I confess, I’m a little surprised to be feeling the disquiet again. It’s been about six weeks now, and I still feel like I’m living and cooking in an AirBnB, even though we are working with with all our favorite cookbooks and gear in a spacious room.

First of all, I cannot, for the life of me, understand why this look is preferred, but if you spend any time in the real estate market these days, you’ll see it a lot. Since the photo below was taken, I’ve added Aunt Regina’s folk art to the walls and laid down colorful, homemade rugs.

We seem to be so starved for color that Sam and I keep reaching for the vintage plates to serve our meals, rather than the plain white china we’ve used for years.

I went back to that blog post to find out what else might be missing, looking for ideas why I might be feeling out of place in the room that anchors me best to a home.

When I wrote “I Really Want to Like the Kitchen” in spring 2015, I had not yet added the solar tube or the stained glass that improved the lighting. I hadn’t added the drawers that made the cupboard storage more accessible or replaced the double oven with an appliance that actually had room for large pans. Those things came much later.

Some of the current disquiet likely comes from working in a space that doesn’t seem to want to become familiar to me. (Except for our basic, yet so very competent Kenmore dishwasher.) I might be able to unravel this AirBnB feeling with similar cupboard improvements and a lighting makeover, including sufficient lighting over the workspace on that kitchen peninsula. I’m also really tempted lay down some Talavera tile and add some colorful hardware to the cupboards–perhaps something fish-shaped. But time and repetition should help those feelings of belonging, too.

When I blogged on this topic ten years ago, I reflected on the wisdom of ‘letting the reason be the reason.’ Sam and I have our reasons for being here in California, and for choosing a townhome in a gated neighborhood. They are good reasons and they haven’t changed simply because we executed the plan.

Yesterday, Sam added another reason that I think, ultimately, will help us feel like we belong. He said he’s met lots of people now and almost no one is crabby, especially when compared to Texas.

It wasn’t always that way in Texas, of course. But Sam made me think of little Gretl, in Sound of Music, asking Max why the Austrian army officer–newly re-minted as an officer in the Third Reich–was so cross. And kind old Max said, ‘because everyone is cross today.’