There’s a hole in the kitchen this morning; our circa nineteen-seventies dishwasher gave up the ghost, and today a new one will be installed.

In the hole, there’s some archeology. The apartment building we live in is one of the twenty-or-so scattered around Capitol Hill in the nineteen-twenties by Frederick Anhalt, a character’s character.

This building employs a decorative rusticated plaster finish over lath for our interior walls. In the hole, unpainted and painted plaster informs us that the original color of our kitchen’s walls is a pale sea-foam green, the color of Errol Flynn’s tights in Robin Hood, released about ten years after this building was constructed.

The pattern of the paint indicates that the original cabinetry was removed, I would guess at the time the dishwasher was first installed probably in the early seventies.

The floor appears to have three layers of tiling – two linoleum and one that I can’t make out.