The kitchen counter has a reasonable size. It is beautiful, made from granite with mica, and rosy feldspar and quartz.
I know about the names because I still vaguely remember the Basic Geology subject I had during the university. It was almost a subject “for dummies”, but I learned a lot. Up to the point I actually thought about getting a post-graduation in Geology.
At that time I enjoyed more what I was doing, I think–or, maybe, I was simply more alienated and innocent.
Anyways… the counter is nice. The sink is right in the middle, and underneath all of it there is a relatively big cabinet, made to fit the exact proportions of the kitchen. Some time ago the part in the back of the structure had to be replaced; on the outside everything looked fine but, below it, the wood was rotting due to the humidity. So, before it fell apart (a miracle, taking into account the domestic dynamic underdeveloped within the walls of my house), the replacement happened.
However, it was not well done, and, as a consequence, the counter is now uneven; ever since it accumulates more water on the right side. Which means that, unless someone “pushes” the water into the sink, it will just stay there, still and exposed, drenching everything that stays over the counter. It is basically impossible to leave anything on it, except if you want to run the risk of letting it slowly (or not, depending on how much water is there) be ruined.
Nonetheless it is, indeed, a beautiful counter. It makes a good impression–even if it hides the imperfect, faulty structure, and even if it that may, one day, give us more trouble. The problem seems to be quite simple to solve, actually, though it may be, possibly, laborious.
But who will bother?!
Meanwhile we push the rests and the water down the drain, dry the surface and hope everything will be okay.