Demolition!

So, we've settled on a bid, scheduled an installation date, and have a dining room full of brand new cabinets.  Everything is ready to go, which means it's time for us to get down to business and rip out the existing cabinets.  Here's a few before shots, just in case you've forgotten what the kitchen looked like when we moved in:

Dining room through the door on the right

Bathroom and bedrooms to the door on the left,
pantry through the door Drew is standing in.

Glorious white-beige-cream-gray palace, prepare to be downgraded significantly.

Drew had Good Friday off from work, so I asked him to pretty please chip off the backsplash tile so we could get the cabinets out of the kitchen during the weekend.  First, I got this photo in a text while I was at work:

Perez: Note that we continue to SAVE THE DATE, even as we demolish our kitchen. 

Huzzah!  The tile is coming down and he emptied out the cabinets and there are no holes in the wall!  Then he sent me this photo:

Well, the tile is down but what is that giant hole above the stove?  Why did all the wallboard come down?  What is going on?  I was confident that Drew had applied the same impeccable tile-chipping technique from the previous wall and that something must have been different about the tile on the other wall, potentially due to being near a heat source, but it got me all nervous about the part where we decided to save money by fixing the walls up ourselves.  Then I had to go bill more hours and tried not to think about it.  No sense getting fired over a few holes in the kitchen wall, right?

But oh my, you are a large hole.  And that wall is a really big mess.

And then I got this photo:

At some point, the kitchen was apparently painted the color of urine.
The horrible creamy walls just look better and better. 

Gaah!  It's great that he removed the cabinets but I'm such a worrywart that I wanted to be there for the cabinet removal to help and/or call 911.  I assumed he was okay since he had the presence of mind to take a photo and text it to me, but it still made me nervous.  Luckily, the end of the day was near and I could go home and inspect the damage to my kitchen and husband.  Upon coming home, I found several silver linings to my previous concerns.  First, Drew was totally fine.  Other than cut up hands from handling tile shards, there were no injuries.  Second, he'd cleaned up the mess in the kitchen.  Third, he was doing the dishes.

Best husband award! 

Saturday morning, we woke up full of vim and vigor, ready to tackle the other wall of cabinets.  The tile-chipping, cabinet removal, and clean up had taken Drew about three hours by himself.  We were hopeful that the other wall wouldn't take too long, but we knew that removing base cabinets (one of which had a gas line threaded through it) and a microwave could add some complexity to the day.

Cute butt award!

The cabinets were attached to the wall with 3-6 long screws.  Some of the screws came out easily using our power drill and some took some more muscle (Drew's, not mine).  The first cabinet we tried to remove was mysteriously attached to the cabinet to its left.  We could see no screws.  Sticking a 5-in-1 in the crack between the cabinets indicated a lack of adhesive.  There was just no clue about how the darn thing was still on the wall.  He decided to try and unscrew the center cabinet, the one above the microwave, to see if that would come out.  Then everything was super wiggly and I got very nervous that the entire wall of cabinets, plus the microwave, would come crashing down.  There was a fair amount of cursing before Drew decided to yank the cabinet around a bit while I "held up the microwave" (as if I were actually strong enough to do that) and see if it would pop free.  At the time, it was the most reasoned decision we could come up with.  So he yanked and wiggled and the cabinet came off the wall!  Better yet, the microwave and center cabinet didn't come crashing down!

Note the footstool and set of antique history books that served as a "just in case it falls off the wall" back up.
WHO'S A PRO? (Answer: Neither of us).  

More urine-colored walls.  And more holes.  Hmm.  It turns out that the crazy person who installed the cabinets screwed them together with visible screws (which we removed initially) and super secret screws underneath the door hinges.  Talk about annoying.  If there had been no visible screws, we would have obviously thought to look under the hinges.  But there were screws all over the place, so who knew there were ALSO super secret screws?  Harumpf.  Lucky that screws rip right out of cheap particleboard if you pull hard enough.

We also got the inside scoop on what was between the microwave and the upper cabinet.

Very long anchor screws.  Some mouse poop.  A 2x4 with our favorite "decorative" tile on it.  The microwave and center cabinet popped right off and we were two thirds of the way there.

I really hope that blue electrical box contains a dedicated circuit!  

The corner cabinet was pretty tough to get off - there was more cursing and yanking than ever before - but the antique books did their job and we were finally done with the upper cabinets.

Removing an errant screw left in the wall. 

Taking the stock of the crazy quilt that is our kitchen wall, it seems like the stove used to be about 18-20 inches to the right.  Clues include that weird unpainted rectangle to the right of the stove, the odd location of the microwave plug, and the location of the gas line.  Maybe this means that moving the stove 18" to the right will be easy as pie!  Maybe not.  We'll see.

Then we set about removing the base cabinets near the stove.  The left cabinet was tucked behind the baseboard and window sill, so we had to remove the right cabinet and then scoot the stove over to get the left one out.

Removing the right cabinet was slightly complicated by the presence of the gas line, which had been installed after the cabinet was already in.  After some questionable attempts to cut the cabinet away from the gas line with a hacksaw, I took a screwdriver and a hammer to the cheap particleboard frame and it came right away.  I'm a nervous nellie about a lot of things, but hacksaw + gas line is near the top of the list.

Ta da! No gas leak!

Anyway, it all worked out nicely and now our kitchen looks like a crack den.  The whole thing took about 3 hours, which left us plenty of time to enjoy the day.

At least this is what I imagine a crack den would look like...

We decided to leave the base cabinets in place on the other side of the kitchen so that we could continue to use the sink and dishwasher up until the last possible moment.  Doing dishes in the bathtub can wait.

Drew gets the best husband award a million times over because he really did most of this himself.  Although I did step in at a few key moments, I mostly stood around in my slippers and snapped photos and got anxious about things falling down.  This is partly because Drew said that this was kind of a one person job and I would just be in the way (probably true) and also partly because I'm pregnant and not very useful for things like yanking cabinets off of walls.

At least I helped with the cursing.

More updates to come!

The Installation Bid(s)

It's been quiet here on QUESTING:boston because I haven't really thought any of the stuff we've had going on was worth a blog post.  It turns out that lots has been going on and I should have been blogging all along, so I'll break it up into a few parts for you.

The first step in all of this was getting an installation bid from John, who works with the Home Depot.  He came over one morning and measured things and looked at things and then gave me an estimate.  Home Depot is great because they break out each item separately - it will cost $X to install your sink, $Y to hook your dishwasher back up, and $Z to tile your backsplash.  This is handy for people like us who are trying to cut costs because we can choose what to pay the pros for and what to do ourselves.  The original bid was about $6000.  I knew we could negotiate a lot of that down by doing certain things ourselves, but it was still a shocking number.

Then the cabinets arrived, which was very exciting because it meant we were well on the way towards our new kitchen but stressful because we hadn't settled on an installation bid yet and our dining room looked like this:

You'd like to get together for dinner? Great! We'll be right over.

I contacted John to let him know we had received the cabinets and wanted to negotiate the bid a start date and ... no response.   JOHN.  Let's GO.  My dining room looks like a warehouse.

After a few days, I emailed Jose, who told me "John is no longer with the company."  Super.  Meanwhile, it was already late March and we had ordered the cabinets waaaayyy back in January.

Jose did what Jose does and fixed the problem.  He sent Tony over to do another bid and to discuss an installation timeline.  Tony showed up at my front door and I knew he was the man for the job.  He looked just like my Italian grandfather (except with white hair) and told me he wasn't leaving until he'd given me a bid I was happy with.  Swoon.

He went through the kitchen and did a much, much more thorough job than John did. (Perhaps this is why John is no longer with the company? We'll never know.)  Tony noticed lots of existing code violations in our kitchen, especially with the electrical system, which sent my heart into my stomach.  Electricity is one of those things I'm just not willing to DIY (except in very limited situations, mostly involving light fixtures) because you can fry yourself pretty easily and there are lots of crazy codes (see below) that I feel compelled to follow.  As a result, electricians strike me as a shifty bunch, as do auto mechanics, plumbers, and some dentists, precisely because we can't get from point A to point B without their services.  If you have feces all over your bathroom floor or need a root canal or your power goes out or your car breaks, you're usually willing to pay what it takes to fix the problem so they've got you by the proverbial balls.  But I digress.

It turns out that you have to have an electrical outlet every four feet (My friend Natalie astutely pointed out that this sounds less like a safety law and more like a solid victory for the electrician's lobby) and an over-the-range microwave has to have a dedicated circuit.  We have to move our outlets around, which is not a huge expense, so the kitchen is up to code.  Fine.  The microwave is another story.  There may already be a dedicated circuit, which would be the best-case scenario (dare I hope?).  If there's not a dedicated circuit though, we're in real trouble.  The previous owners installed a humongous central air conditioner and, while I'm sure I'll be singing their praises about that this summer, they maxed out something or another with the electrical system, which means we would have to do something complicated and expensive in order to keep the microwave over the stove.  Can you tell I wasn't paying much attention when Tony was telling me about that part?  It's because I was getting a little panicky.  Forgive me.

If there's not a dedicated circuit already, my current plan is to get a countertop microwave and do something else in that space.  Spice rack?  Pot rack?  Something else that can get covered in grease?  This is all TBD and will likely be the subject of much whining in the not-too-distant-future.  I know you're excited.  I sure am.

True to his word, Tony didn't leave until we'd settled on a bid.  We saved a bundle cutting out the demolition/hauling, tiling the backsplash, and installing our super cool open shelving.  After a few tweaks, the final bid was $4700.  It's still more than I was hoping to spend, but all those code violations added up.  Tony was also very sweet and slashed many installation costs, either because he felt bad that John had left us in the lurch or he felt a family connection with me too.  I'd like to think it was the latter.  Either way, we're all set for installation to begin on April 16.  Woot woot!

Coming right up: DEMOLITION.  More pictures too, I promise!

Moving right along!

I don't have any pictures of the kitchen today (sorry!) but we're making progress, even if it's not photo-worthy!

The cabinets (American Woodmark Reading in Linen Maple finish) and countertops (Home Depot granite in Azul Platino) are on order!  After a very, very long Friday evening full of technology failures, we finally put the order in, just in time to get all the awesome deals on the cabinets.

American Woodmark cabinets are "semi-custom." As far as I can tell, this means they only make certain sizes and colors (i.e., they are not custom) but don't have any warehouse space (like Ikea) so they make 'em when you order 'em.  Our cabinets will arrive at our door in about three weeks unless we tell them to slow that timeline down.  We have house guests (mom and dad!) coming in early March, so I think we'll likely tell Woodmark to hold onto our file for a few weeks so we're not playing the renovation game while my parents are in town.

We also decided to go with HD's granite.  I had a good lead on $35/sq. foot granite, which beats HD's sale price by $10 per square foot, but the guy had some terrible Yelp reviews.  I'm not one to put too much stock in a few negative reviews, but most reviews were really bad - like, "they installed the granite and it cracked down the middle and then they refused to fix it for three months" bad.  Also, I called twice and he never called me back, which doesn't bode well.  We're just not going there.  

We are working with HD's installation folks to get a bid together for cabinet installation.  Although I'm quite confident in our DIY abilities, I'm certain that hanging heavy, expensive, cabinets on a wall so they don't look storm-tossed like our current cabinets is a job best left to the pros.  Also, if we do it wrong and the cabinets fall off the wall, we will have broken cabinets, damaged walls, and shattered plates/cups/etc. Furthermore, HD insures all their installation work directly and if anything goes wrong I can call Jose, who will fix it.  All of this makes my little risk-averse heart sing.  If they give us a good price, I'm all over it.

So that's that.  Sorry for the wordy, boring post.  Have a good week, everyone!

R.I.P Walk-in Closet

Booooo.  This is the part of the project where we have to be super duper honest about our DIY capabilities and/or willingness to have strangers tearing down walls in our bedroom and kitchen.

Let me back up...

The pantry/closet is just off the kitchen.  The "R" is the refrigerator.  

Our pantry is essentially a square.  Currently, our closet juts in on the left side of the pantry, making the pantry an L-shape (see super helpful diagram, above).  Knocking down the two walls that make up the closet would create a giant, square room with two doors--the closet door and the door to the pantry.  The plan was then to frame in the door to the kitchen, put cabinets, etc. on that new wall, and have a glorious walk-in closet.

Here are the drawings that Jose created for us:

The pantry door is currently behind the fridge.

Another angle.

But then we got nervous for about a thousand reasons, a few of which are below:

THAT CORNER: It's really tight in there with a hulking fridge and a sink and a dishwasher.  There were three options:

• Layout as above: If someone is standing at the sink, there's only 12" clearance before the handles to the fridge.  That means the person standing at the sink would have to move (or suck in his/her gut) for someone else to get into the fridge.  Dinner prep and cleanup is pretty dynamic around here (e.g., Drew starts to cook while I do stray dishes, I pack up leftovers while Drew does the dishes, etc.) so that was going to be awkward. 
• Switch the dishwasher and fridge: We tried putting the refrigerator where the dishwasher is and putting the dishwasher where the refrigerator is, but then the dishwasher is behind you as you stand at the sink.  I had fears that one of us would end up like Zach Braff's mother in Garden State, who fell over an open dishwasher and got paralyzed (yep, I remember all the worrisome things from all the movies).  Also, it would make dishes awkward because you can't have the dishwasher open while you're at the sink, and that's how you do dishes (at least that's how I do dishes).  It also closed off the space considerably to have a giant hulking fridge right next to the door.  Not functional or visually pleasing? Nope. 
• Corner sink: We also thought about putting in a corner cabinet and having the sink in the corner.  That's the way our upstairs neighbor has it and it looks great.  She hates the layout though, because she bangs her elbow on the fridge all the time while she's doing dishes.  Cue Drew standing at the sink and flapping his arms (think: chicken dance) and saying "See? I can't do this if the sink is here! I have to be able to do this!"  So silly.  Really though, we are two differently sized people and we both need to be able to use the sink without injury.  I don't want poor Drew banging his elbow on something for our entire stay in this house.  The corner sink was a no-go.  

None of the three plans gave us a layout that we were happy with.  I am not knocking down walls for something that makes the kitchen less functional than it was to begin with.  

THE PANTRY:  Pantries are, in fact, a selling point for houses around here.  Almost all the condos we looked at had them, and people like them.  When they're nice, they lend a bit of old-world charm to kitchens.  Our pantry isn't in great condition (and the giant fridge takes up way too much space), but with a little TLC it could be a great little space.  We don't eat a ton of packaged food, so our pantry is full of stuff like a dustbuster and laundry supplies, but other people fill pantries like it's their job and our future buyer might be a spam-aholic or make his own preserves or something.  Furthermore, this house is over 100 years old and it feels a little ... something ... to replace a feature of the house that's been here forever (and stored lots of food for lots of families throughout the years) with a walk-in closet.  Call me sentimental, but I would feel a little bit guilty about somehow "defacing" the house so that I could store my shoe collection more neatly.  I fell in love with our pantry while we were thinking of tearing it out, so I'd rather hold onto it and keep the kitchen layout functional than get rid of it and take away Drew's ability to flap his arms like a chicken while doing the dishes.  

ELECTRICITY:  On the more practical side, knocking down the closet walls and building a new wall across the doorway would have involved lots of moving electricity.  There is a plug in the pantry on that wall and there is no electrical anywhere near the wall we would need to build (which we would need to add to plug the fridge in).  This would have involved significant work by an electrician (No, I will not take my chances DIYing electricity, thankyouverymuch).  Electricians cost money.

THE GREAT UNKNOWNS:  When you start knocking down walls in 100-year-old houses, you find weird stuff.  Mold?  Pests?  Dead bodies?  Plumbing/electrical/gas lines you didn't know existed there? Anything could happen.  'Nuff said. 

THE COST:  Because of the electrical issues and the great unknowns, it's likely we would have had to call in the experts to help with this part of the project.  We understand that every home repair project ends up costing more (in money or gray hairs) than planned, but we were nervous about starting at the top of our budget to begin with.  

THE TIME:  Our bedroom and our kitchen are two rooms we use a whole heck of a lot.  Maybe this whole thing could be done in two days while we're at work and it would have been just peachy, but maybe the great unknowns would cause delay and we'd be sleeping under a fine coat of plaster dust for a month.  If we decided to DIY the whole thing (other than the electrical), we would absolutely be sleeping under a fine coat of plaster dust because we both work full time and it would have taken FOR. EV. ER.  

All that stuff factored in, but the real concern was that we were about to spend time and money on a kitchen that wasn't functional.  Function is the name of the game when you're cooking, so it wasn't going to be worth it.  

So, we've retooled the plans.  We're keeping the pantry and the layout almost the same as they are now.  I handed this drawing to Jose, who was impressed with my mad drawing skillz and asked me what I did for a living.  I told him I was an attorney and he told me I had a real future as an artist, should I decide to pursue a Plan B.  I'm not sure there's a living to be made drawing cartoonish representations of pretend kitchens, but I'll take my compliments where I can.  I also made sure our friend the wooden chicken made it onto the open shelving, obviously.

The two changes we're making are (1) scooting the stove to within 18" of the wall and (2) inserting a smaller sink cabinet.  Moving the stove allows for a long stretch of counter space to the left of the stove.  The stove is currently centered, with 36" of counter on each side.  36" isn't big enough for two people to stand side-by-side and it's not really big enough for one person to do any serious prep work either.  We're also putting in a smaller, deeper sink to replace the shallow double bowl monstrosity we have now.  Don't worry - Drew stood 15" from the wall (which is, in theory, where the new sink drain will go) and was happy with his arm-flapping capabilities.  Otherwise, we've got our open shelving (yay!) and we'll be able to put a little love into the pantry (and get a fridge that isn't as big as a space ship) with all the money we save not changing the layout.  Here are the new color elevations:

So much glorious counter space on the left!

The left cabinet overlaps the trim by 1" so we're changing out the 24"
cabinet (pictured) for a 21" cabinet.

Also, there is definitely not a window right there - that's the bathroom.  

We had to buy two more "cabinets" to get the super deal on the Woodmark cabinets,
so we bought two wine racks (they were the cheapest option).
We're not sure they'll go right there, but now we'll have approximately a
thousand bottles of wine for when y'all come visit!

So that's that.  We're both feeling better about the plan and like it will be a more manageable project.  We'll have to buy a wardrobe so poor Drew can move his clothes out of the guest room, but we can do that.  We are headed to Home Depot to sign final papers tonight, and the cabinets should come in about three weeks!  So exciting!

Happy Friday!

The Chosen Finishes (for now, at least)

I thought I'd also share some of the finishes we're thinking of using.  In my head, "finishes" mean the color of the cabinets and the kind of tile and stuff.  It might not mean that, but that's what I'm talking about.  Without further ado, here they are:

The cabinets will be Woodmark's "Reading" cabinets in "Linen" finish.  

Home Depot is running a serious sale on cabinetry right now that make these babies super affordable -  So affordable that, when we priced out cabinetry at Ikea, the total for the cabinets would have been only about $400 less than the Woodmark cabinets.  The Ikea cabinets would have been made of MDF (medium-density fiberboard) and we would have had to put them together (along with all the improvising and cursing that always accompanies Ikea furniture assembly).   The Woodmark cabinets, in contrast, are solid wood and are put together in a factory by someone who knows what they're doing and has all the right tools.  If I'm going to put my wedding china in these cabinets, I'd rather the assembly process be somewhat more systematic than Drew and I in our socks trying to decipher those blasted little Ikea blob men's instructions.  And cursing.  

WHY DON'T THEY JUST USE WORDS?

Furthermore, the Home Depot price includes delivery and tax, which the Ikea price doesn't, probably bringing the two prices to within a hundred bucks or so.  If all that weren't enough (and it is), we love Jose much more than we loved the disgruntled Ikea kitchens guy, who looked like he would rather have been getting a root canal than helping us design our kitchen.  

I also priced out other options, but got nervous and overwhelmed because a lot of them involved buying cabinets online with no in-person guidance.  We feel like we're getting a great deal on the Home Depot cabinetry and like the person we're working with, so we felt okay taking the plunge.  (I'll share all the pricing information once we finalize everything).  

We briefly considered doing stained wood cabinets but decided against it because (1) the kitchen doesn't get a ton of light and we want to keep things as bright as possible (a new light fixture will help with that too) and (2) we already have a ton of wood in the adjoining dining room (floors, table, china cabinet) and it feels like way too much to have wood cabinets in the kitchen too.  More of a hunting lodge vibe than I'm going for.  I'm sure we could have made it work, but I like white cabinets and it's my kitchen, so there.  

The choice of countertop is a very personal one and people can get pretty heated about it, it appears.  We considered butcher block, which we saw in one property we looked at, but ultimately decided against it because it needs tons of maintenance and could look beat up in a few years.  Stone countertops add more value to a house than synthetic (i.e., Corian) countertops, according to the internet (which is never wrong).  We're also not very good about being careful about putting hot stuff on the counter (our laminate countertops have not been ruined yet, but it's really just a matter of time) and the synthetic stuff isn't super heat-resistant.  So far, all the granite we've looked at is more reasonably priced than quartz (by quite a bit), so that's the choice for now.    

At the moment, we're thinking about Azul Platino granite (see above), which is in the lowest-priced group at Home Depot ($50 per square foot).  We'll probably get it from these guys, though, who installed our neighbor's granite and apparently charge $35 per square foot for the exact same stone.  

We also want an undermounted stainless steel sink.  The one above seems cool to me (I found it on overstock.com) but we haven't really gotten far enough in the process to start choosing sinks.  

Finally, we're going to try and do subway tile all the way to the ceiling by the sink (to highlight all the stuff on our super-cool open shelving) and as a backsplash in the stove area.  Subway tile is cheap, timeless (hopefully), and neat looking.  I also don't care that every kitchen remodel right now includes subway tile.  The only potential issue is that the cabinets are "Linen," not pure white, so it may look a little funny.  I think it'll be fine, but it's on my list of things to check out, just to be sure.  

I think we'll slowly replace the appliances with stainless steel versions as necessary but (other than the fridge), replacing appliances won't likely be part of this project.  It's very expensive and it feels terribly wasteful replacing totally functional appliances just because they don't "match."  

So there you have it.  Our current thinking on finishes (or whatever they're called).  Our meeting with Jose went well yesterday (we even have an appointment for someone to come measure for cabinets!) but decided on a few design changes that I'll tell you all about later.  With that, I'm off to work.  Have a great week, everyone! 

Kitchen Inspiration

I've been stalking kitchen blogs for months now, trying to figure out exactly what elements to put in our kitchen.  Sherry and John over at Young House Love are redoing their kitchen and are putting in a range hood and open shelving above their stove kind of like this: 

I don't know who took this photo, but I found it here. 

Swoon, right?  It's not like our kitchen will ever look this good (hello huge island, exposed beams, giant window, etc.) but I really liked the look.  Drew agreed.  He thought it looked "hip," which we strive for (and fall short of) on a daily basis around here.

We wandered into Home Depot's kitchen department (and by "wandered in" I mean I steered us there on a mission) and met Jose, a kitchen designer there.  He told me that open shelving and range hoods are very "in" right now.  He proceeded to show us a million design magazines that featured the same setup and I became convinced that I was ultra-fashionable (or at least that Young House Love was).  Jose did a mockup of our kitchen with new cabinets and the open shelving/hood combo near the stove and away we went.

Then I started thinking.  We are doing this renovation so we can get more enjoyment and functionality out of the space, but we also want to increase the value of our home (or at least not have people walk in and say, "omigosh I could never live with that").  Some people (the kind folks at Young House Love included) make a very powerful case for open shelving near a stove, saying that if you have a good hood, only keep frequently used stuff on the shelves, and dust every now and again, you'll be fine.  But what if most people felt differently?  I turned to trusty old google and found that open shelving near a stove is a love/hate thing - about 50% of people who posted on the subject were all hot and bothered and adamantly against the idea and the other 50% passionately defended it.

After a brief discussion, we jettisoned the idea.  If we had been head-over-heels in love with the open shelving/range hood idea, we would have done it and hoped that a buyer from the 50% of people who love open shelving would scoop up our little house.  But we weren't in love enough to take the plunge. I also hate the idea of having to climb onto the counter to wipe a potential grease/dust combo off of something that hasn't been used in awhile.

Furthermore, after more discussion with our upstairs neighbor, we found out that none of the ranges are actually vented to the outside in this little house of ours.  Nope!  They blow right into the room.  Super odd, but whatever.  Decision made.  The over-range microwave will stay, venting its little heart out into the center of the kitchen.  (Note to self: Do not turn on the vent in case of a stove fire).

Here's what we're thinking now:

I am relatively proud of the top drawing.  Not the bottom one, though.
My sixth grade art teacher would kill me for my terrible perspective. 

Scooting the stove over to the right (from its current spot in the center of the wall) will give us more usable counter space and cabinetry on the left.  Those of you who can decipher the ill-conceived drawing in the lower right-hand corner will see that the idea of open shelving has survived, albeit in a cleaner area of the kitchen.  I figure we can keep our plates and mugs and mixing bowls and other lovely items on those shelves.  There will be plenty of closed storage in the stove area for the ugly stuff.   We may also throw a corner cabinet in there and bridge the spaces between the fridge and cabinet and between the cabinet and wall with open shelving.  Other inspiration photos are below:

Photo Credit

Photo Credit

Photo Credit

So that's that for now!  We have an appointment with Jose, who I will tell you lots more about, tomorrow.  In the meantime, I'm enjoying a lazy day at home, drinking tea and watching the snow fall!  Happy Saturday, everyone!

The Bandaid

You've seen the really horrible "before" photos, so today I thought I'd show you the less horrible "before" photos.  When we couldn't re-do the bathroom immediately, I put a bandaid of sorts in place to tide us over until we could put in some more substantial work.  I did the same thing in the kitchen.  

We decided not to paint the walls or trim (the only room that we haven't painted yet) because we figured it would be a huge pain in the neck to do with the cabinets in there and if we were just going to make a huge mess anyway (and presumably nick our lovely paint job), we may as well wait until we have a more "finished" kitchen to paint the walls.  The creamy horribleness lives on, at least for the moment.  

In the absence of the big, refreshing change that only a new paint job can provide, I decided that we may as well embrace the "country" vibe and throw a lot of stuff into the kitchen to take emphasis off its unsavory elements.

We have all red plates and cooking stuff, but I thought it would be good to infuse some more relaxed colors in there too.  I made those curtains with my Inspector Gadget sewing machine, which made me feel incredibly domestic.  They're even lined, guys.  Pretty impressive, I know.  Those gross mini blinds on the top half of the window are there to remind you that we're not as classy as we look.  

Drew and I have an irrational attachment to the table, which we bought secondhand for the apartment we lived in while I was in law school.  It's too large for the space but there's nowhere else to put it.  Until we figure out what to do with it, this is it.  The table cloth is an oldie but a goodie and was purchased for its pattern, which cleverly hides crumbs and stains (an important feature of any good table covering, in my opinion).  

In the corner, we added a clock and a microwave stand from Drew's Nana.  Although the microwave stand was super useful for storing cookie trays and pot lids (which made me curse like a sailor every time I opened the cabinets near the stove because they were sliding all over the place), it was making the corner too crowded.  So, although I know you're super duper impressed by my fall tableau (this is an old picture, obviously), the microwave stand is currently in the pantry awaiting a new home.  The cookie sheets and the pot lids are back in the cabinets by the stove, and I'm back to cursing whenever I open them.

Over by the sink, the open storage is in full force.  Sorry the photo is so dark - my cell phone doesn't do a great job and our camera is out of batteries - but you get the jist.  We keep our red plates, our red dutch oven, and a pretty wooden salad bowl in the open shelving above the sink.  Our glasses are in the glass-front cabinets (we hide our Red Sox cups and our ugly law school water bottles in closed storage near the stove) and we have some odds and ends in the tiny closed cabinet.  Assorted odds and ends (including our chicken! Hi friend!) inhabit the end shelf.  Dishes inhabit the sink, which is why you're getting a cabinets-only shot.  

So that's that.  The kitchen bandaid in full force.  Adding some more colors to the space has eased the effect of all the terrible things about the kitchen, but not has not worked quite enough magic to stop me from wanting to chip that freaking tile off the walls RIGHT NOW.  

The Kitchen: Before

The kitchen is the only room in the house you haven't seen yet. The reason for this is because every time I walk into the kitchen, I cringe. No one else (except my uber stylish friend, Claudia) has had this reaction, but I just can't help myself. White cabinets (installed incorrectly). Creamy walls. Gray backsplash. Cream grout. Weird, faux-tuscan backsplash border. White(ish) trim. White appliances/black stove. Gray swirly laminate with a wood border. Brown tile. I JUST. CAN'T. TAKE. IT. 

The dining room is through the door that Drew is standing in. I am taking the photo standing next to the sink.

Window looking out onto the driveway (picturesque!)
The sink area is to the left.
That door leads to the backyard.

The other thing that drives me nuts about this kitchen is the wall cabinets. You can't really see it in the photo above, but the cabinets above the stove go all the way to the eight-foot ceiling. Those of you who know me (and I think that's everyone reading, right?) know that I'm really short. What on earth do I need with cabinets that go all the way to the ceiling? Even Drew, who is much taller, can't reach anything up there. It also feels like the cabinets are going to eat you. So there's that. 

And then there are the wall cabinets above the sink. (Measurements approximate)

1. An 8" set of open shelves 

2. An 8" closed cabinet

3. A 24" glass-front cabinet

4. 30" of open plate storage with large open shelves above

I don't mind the open plate storage or the glass cabinet, but the two small cabinets are totally useless. Not to mention that the 18" drawer stack next to the dishwasher isn't even wide enough to hold a silverware tray. The cabinet under the sink is so full of pipes/garbage disposal that we can't even fit our trash can underneath. 

There's also a pantry with a giant fridge in it. The fridge sticks out several inches beyond the door frame and can't open all the way because it hits the shelves on the opposite wall. We keep all our "pantry" food in here, but there's not a ton of it. Cue more open shelves and a lot of random stuff that doesn't belong in a pantry (Hellooo dustbuster! Potting soil! Kitty litter we used to soak up some hazmat during the bathroom project! Antique teakettles!). Also, every single person that has walked into the kitchen says "That's so weird that the fridge is over there." Yep. I think so too.

Now I know many of you look at the photos above and think, "What's wrong with this girl? It's fine." And you might be right. This kitchen is clearly in keeping with someone's design aesthetic, but it's not mine. For someone who loves to cook (and eat), a cringeworthy kitchen is depressing. On the more practical side, the laminate countertops, strange layout, peeling and improperly hung thermafoil cabinets with bowing shelves, and dated appliances are not going to make selling the place easy (once we're to that point). We believe that the guy who sold the previous owners the house did a rush job on the kitchen and the bathroom to sell it, and then the previous owners did nothing to change the aesthetics of the house for their 7 years here. 


So we're renovating the kitchen. We are not doing this "for resale value," because in this market, that's a risky reason to do things to your house. But it can't freaking hurt, right? Mostly, we're doing this so I don't whine about the kitchen all the time. As Drew knows, stopping the whining is a valid reason to do pretty much anything. If we can enjoy a lovely kitchen for most of our time here and then not make potential buyers gag when they walk in, we will have made the right choice. 

The backsplash and the countertops are the things I hate most, so at first we were just going to replace those. Then we started noticing the peeling thermafoil and the utter uselessness of many of the cabinets. I also felt strange installing a lovely (heavy) countertops on top of less-than-functional cabinets. What's the point of that? So we started looking at cabinets too (more on that later) but were planning on keeping the layout the same. 

But then, we went up to the third floor and saw our neighbor's kitchen.  Someone, at some point, had walled off the door between the kitchen and the pantry and made the pantry into a walk-in closet (the master bedroom closet is to the right of the fridge in the above photo - you can see the jog in the wall). The refrigerator was actually *in* the kitchen. 

Talk about killing two birds with one stone - the lack of closet space was the one thing we really, really didn't like about this house and moving the fridge into the kitchen makes it less stretched out and weirdly shaped and you can actually, you know, COOK STUFF in the room without running all over the place with drippy raw chicken trays. (That happened the other day and poor Drew got yelled at. I have an irrational fear of raw chicken juice and won't touch it myself). 

But back to the renovation plans. 

We've decided (for now) to make the pantry into a walk-in closet and to replace cabinets, countertops, and backsplash during "phase one" of the renovation. We may change our minds if costs explode, but that's the plan for now. "Phase two" will be when we get ready to sell the house (whenever that is) and will involve new appliances. We've decided that there's no reason to replace the old ones now when they work perfectly fine and when they'll be "old" already by the time we're trying to sell. Everything is a "normal" size (30" oven, 24" dishwasher, etc.) so exchanging old for new shouldn't be a problem down the line. The probable exception to this, however, is the fridge. We may need to replace that with a counter-depth fridge so it doesn't take over the entire kitchen. 

The photos above are obviously from before we moved in. I'll post photos of the "bandaid" work I've already done to the kitchen next to make it vaguely more palatable in the interim. 

For now though, I hope your'e ready for a whole lotta kitchen talk. I know I am. 

The Bathroom, Part Deux

A girl can only live with nasty, moldy linoleum for so long. Remember what the bathroom looked like before? Abnormally tall sink, gross linoleum, and yellow and purple sponge painted walls. Painting the walls and sink helped, but that floor...

Before we moved in.

After the bandaid. 

One evening at some very inconvenient time, I decided to figure out what was under the linoleum. I stuck a flat head screwdriver under a peeling-up part behind the toilet and look what I found!

It's not a moldy subfloor! It's not more linoleum! It's not a gaping hole into the basement! It's lovely white hex tile! It felt like that moment from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory where Charlie peels back the wrapper on the candy bar to find the golden ticket. There may or may not have been some jumping up and down. But then the real work began. The entire floor was still covered in linoleum with cardboard backing and lots of glue. And of couse there was the fact that people don't cover up lovely white hex tile with linoleum. We prepared ourselves for a distinctly un-lovely surprise at some point during the excavation process. 

First, we uncovered the area near the toilet. It was a messy process. We scored the vinyl layer of the linoleum and peeled it up, then wet the cardboard backing/glue residue with hot, soapy water and let it sit.  Then we took our trusty 5-in-1 tool and started scraping. Luckily, the tile is made of something impervious to scratches. We found a few uneven and cracked spots in the tile around the toilet, but it was such an improvement on the linoleum that it seemed okay. We kept going and pretty soon (lie: it took several hours) we had uncovered the whole floor except under the toilet and under the sink. 

There was still quite a bit of yellow glue stuck to the floor. I took the photo on the left with me to Home Depot and asked for an adhesive remover. Some jerk employee said, "Sweetheart, you don't want to kill yourself on that old tile. Let me show you our linoleum options." I gave him a solid glare, thanked him for his thoughts, and asked again where the adhesive remover was. I'll bet if Drew had been with me, the man wouldn't have suggested more linoleum, but I digress. One giant bottle of haz mat and two masks later, I was on my way home determined to restore the floor if it killed me.

So we spread the adhesive remover, which looked like egg yolks, all over the floor and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. Sure enough, all the yellow residue came off. Girl power/hazardous chemicals for the win.

The next step was finding a perfect new vanity to replace the old ridiculous one. We wanted something 24 inches wide in a dark color with a white top for $250 or less. Guess how hard that is to find? Pretty dang hard. After lots of online searching and lots of head scratching about the people who buy the ugly vanities that seem to make up 90% of the market, we landed at Lowes.

Hello new friend! You are decent looking, you have a nice shelf on the bottom, you are 24" wide, and you are a normal height. You are also $229. After valiant efforts by Drew and some nice stranger, it became abundantly clear that the box was simply not going to fit in our Hyundai. We unwrapped it at the curb and put the parts into the backseat, along with the packaging.

Spoiler alert: It's a good thing we saved the packaging.

Next, we had to get the linoleum out from under the toilet and old vanity, which meant we were getting into the serious part of the project. We set aside an entire weekend and said a little prayer for marital bliss and successful plumbing adventures. Before removing the vanity, Drew recorded this video for posterity:

We removed the old vanity and the toilet and got to work. That was not as easy as I just made it sound, but it wasn't terribly interesting either so I'll spare you the gory details. Sidenote: When we were watching our ten minutes of preparatory videos on youtube, at least one warned us of the sewer gasses that would leak out of the toilet pipe once the bowl was gone. My very handy father, whose telephone assistance made this project possible, said to "just stick a rag down there." Excuse me dad, we are talking about TOXIC POO FUMES here. A "rag" does not sound sufficient. I put an entire bath towel in the pipe and we both really really hoped that the bath towel was up to the job and also that no one had to use the bathroom for the rest of the day.

 

GROSSEST THING EVER. There was even a cheerio under there.

Toilet in the bathtub! (Do not use)

That's your towel for when you come visit us!
(J/K. We threw it out immediately.)

There were lots of grout lines that were old and crumbly so we decided that we needed to regrout the entire bathroom. It sounded like a good idea but it turned out to be a very, very stressful idea. The old grout was black, so we thought we should regrout with black grout too. Right?

MAYDAY. Is it supposed to look like this?

Our lovely white tile, which we'd spent so much time/girl power/chemicals on, was getting covered in what looked like tar. It felt like a very bad choice. Once we started though, there was nothing to do but keep going.

You'll notice we put the toilet back in before re-grouting. Rookie mistake.

After waiting the recommended two hours, we scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed and there was a horrible black haze left on the tile. The grout was also smearing out of the seams and getting all over the tiles we were desperately trying to clean. We were both on the verge of losing it, so we decided to go put the vanity together. 

After screwing the legs and shelf together and putting it up against the wall in the bathroom, we realized that we were in BIG trouble. The back of the vanity was open except for a brace along the bottom edge of the closed part of the cabinet. That brace was at the exact height of our plumbing coming out of the wall, and the u-bend dipped below the bottom of the cabinet. We may have been able to cut out the bottom of the cabinet for the u-bend and then move the brace up the back of the cabinet to accomodate the plumbing, but we are simply not that handy. The veneer was peeling off in a few places as well so the cabinet simply wasn't worth the hassle. 

We put the vanity and its packaging in the car again and drove back to Lowes in a state of near-panic. The two things we'd tried valiantly to do - restore the tile and replace the vanity - were not going well. Not well at all. The nice woman at the returns counter refunded our money on the vanity with a smile, which is why we love Lowes. We found another vanity in the bathroom aisle that had an entirely open back and didn't involve any veneer and was $10 less expensive than the other one. SOLD to the panicked, un-showered couple covered in black grout! 

We went into the tile aisle and asked another nice Lowes employee what we should do to remedy our grout disaster. He said the haze would come off in time and that the grout in the seams just needed a few more days. Fine. But we both had a sinking feeling that the bathroom looked less "vintage" and more "shitty" than we were hoping. We did some soul searching in the vinyl flooring aisle (and my pride took a major hit when I realized the Home Depot jerk may have been right about my tile restoration abilities) but ultimately decided to head home with our new vanity and wait to see how we felt about the floor after continued scrubbing in a few days. 

It turned out that the vanity fit beautifully. The open back accommodated our apparently-not-standard plumbing and we thought all was well. Then we tried to put the sink on. 

I don't know if you can tell, but the pipe basically comes all the way up to the top of the vanity, leaving no room for the sink bowl. It made sense because the old sink was much further off the ground than this new sink, but it meant that the plumbing needed altering. 

We went back to Home Depot for a hacksaw, a new white screwy thing for the top, and some glue to hold everything together. We measured everything about fifty times and cut the pipe. We got everything put back together and...

Action shot.

TA DA!!!!! The haze is getting fainter and fainter and I no longer need a stool to wash my face. We didn't touch the bathtub or the tile in the shower area, so they still look crummy, but that's what they make shower curtains for, right?

Total cost: $400. Total years aged: At least 5 each.