As we move into our tenth month of remodeling, I have lost all trace of the cheery, chipper attitude that was a hallmark of my early postings. Remember when I got all thrilled because the guys were framing and I could see the outlines of the new structures? Trust me when I say that re-reading those posts is like reading letters I wrote in college: I was a completely different person.
After nine months of this, I'm fed up with subcontractors who assume that I am always here and ready, willing and able to make decisions at any hour of the day or night. I'm tired of looking at things that are almost finished, but won't be done for a couple of months (note to self: next time, try harder, much harder, to like tile that is in stock somewhere in the known universe).
And I've made so many decisions that right now, I don't even really care about any of the remaining ones.
I have nothing left to give to this kitchen. It's on its own.
My neighbor Kathy has been there, done that, on a much larger scale. She and her husband remodeled their entire house, which entailed moving out for months with their two kids (and moving back with three—they had a baby during their extended remodel). When I indulged in a little venting this afternoon, she was the very soul of empathy.
"It's just like labor—you're at that point where you don't care how, you just need it to be DONE," she said wisely. "It's really too bad there's not a c-section option for kitchens."
To which I say: Amen, sister! Bring on the epidural, or better yet, the "Twilight Sleep" they gave my mom in the 1960s.
A few random updates:
Today I re-ordered the pendant lights because the first batch were too short. I managed to return the first batch to Rejuvenation, only to find out later that I should have gone through some process on their website rather than just packaging them up and shipping them back. Meanwhile, the replacements will take 5-6 weeks. There is plenty of light in the kitchen without the pendants, but it's just one more thing that isn't done—and this one is my fault to boot.
Tomorrow, I'm going to order the backsplash tile. We settled on a handmade 2" by 4" subway tile in a color that just about matches the walls. It will take around 8 weeks to arrive, and the contractors can't frame up the niche behind the range until we have the tile in hand. That means I'll be looking at a wall with a small hole in it until school starts, probably.
And finally, we're in frantic pack-up-the-living-room-and-dining-room mode because we're having those floors refinished when the kitchen floor is done--which means every stick of furniture in those rooms (including our 1939 piano) will have to find a new home.
I'm sure—I hope—that it will all be worth it.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Granite!
It's here, and I'm happy!
It looks a bit darker than I expected, but that's just fine.
The colors, the wavy movement, and the waterfall edge that Doyle wanted all look beautiful.
And the fabricators (Iowa Countertop) did a wonderful job on the one and only seam. The colors and movement really flow together. As my neighbor Kathy said, "They were able to save the wave!"
It's all good, and I'm feeling an extreme sense of relief. I kept thinking, what if this looks totally different to me once it's in the house, and I don't even like it? I know a bad countertop isn't the end of the world ... but good or bad, this one will be here for a long, long time.
More good news: just as the countertop guys were ready to leave, the painters showed up. By the end of the day, there will be no drywall white anywhere in the kitchen. I still haven't chosen a wall color, but the primer will be tinted Dover White to help us choose the backsplash and wall color.
It looks a bit darker than I expected, but that's just fine.
The colors, the wavy movement, and the waterfall edge that Doyle wanted all look beautiful.
And the fabricators (Iowa Countertop) did a wonderful job on the one and only seam. The colors and movement really flow together. As my neighbor Kathy said, "They were able to save the wave!"
It's all good, and I'm feeling an extreme sense of relief. I kept thinking, what if this looks totally different to me once it's in the house, and I don't even like it? I know a bad countertop isn't the end of the world ... but good or bad, this one will be here for a long, long time.
More good news: just as the countertop guys were ready to leave, the painters showed up. By the end of the day, there will be no drywall white anywhere in the kitchen. I still haven't chosen a wall color, but the primer will be tinted Dover White to help us choose the backsplash and wall color.
Back door
Our new back entry is finished (except for the light over the back door) and they did a wonderful job. It's pleasure to come in and out of the house now.
The brick walkway looks as though it's always been there. The garden space is gorgeous—Doyle got to work planting it as soon as the painters left, and finished a week or so ago.
The door hardware won't be installed until the painters are finished with the door, which may be today.
And this very minute, the granite is being installed in the kitchen.
Part of me wants to go look at it, part of me is scared to look at it, and part of me doesn't want to see it until it's finished. And one final part thinks it's really silly of me to care so much.
The brick walkway looks as though it's always been there. The garden space is gorgeous—Doyle got to work planting it as soon as the painters left, and finished a week or so ago.
The door hardware won't be installed until the painters are finished with the door, which may be today.
And this very minute, the granite is being installed in the kitchen.
Part of me wants to go look at it, part of me is scared to look at it, and part of me doesn't want to see it until it's finished. And one final part thinks it's really silly of me to care so much.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Almost Gothic
More than two years ago, I saw a remodeling magazine that featured a white kitchen with glass cabinet and Gothic muntins (or windowpane dividers). It was a design epiphany.
It was also the kitchen of two doctors, which should have clued me in that my aspirations were about to get the better of my budget.
Our front door has always been one of my favorite things about the house—why not carry that design into the kitchen cabinets? The kitchen cabinets led to a new Gothic door for the dining room corner cabinet (one of Cynthia's brainstorms). And then I got the idea to make the vaulted ceiling into a Gothic arch too. It was all Gothic, all the time around here.
Today, the three long-awaited glass kitchen doors arrived. Each door took these meticulous craftsmen ten hours to build. They are a true feat of woodworking. And they are not quite right.
I saw at first glance that the curves looked too round and not steep enough, and my heart sank. Here they sat, the kitchen's focal point, after years of planning, months of waiting, and dozens of work hours, and they just weren't right.
What's amazing about this unfortunate and very frustrating development is that Nelson and I were able to talk it over and figure out what happened, without any rancor on either side. (He used the exact proportions of the cabinets in the photo, but since our cabinets aren't as tall, those proportions led to rounder curves.)
They are completely beautiful. They just aren't quite Gothic. And knowing how much labor went into them, I felt awful beyond words.
"This is not something to lose sleep over," Nelson said. "I don't want you to fret about it. We want you to be happy." He apologized for not doing a layout first for us to look over, and I apologized for not asking for one.
I asked for time to think it over, thinking they might look all right to me in the morning, and he said it was fine to think about it as long as I didn't worry about it.
"We'll make this the way you want," he said firmly, as we looked at three doors that had taken his son Joe the better part of a week to make—time I'm sure was not fully covered by the cabinet bid in the first place.
By the end of the conversation, we were both laughing. And after Doyle left Nelson a message that we did want to try again on the doors, but that we would pay for the extra labor, Nelson called us back to tell me again not to worry about it, that they would get it right, and that all was well between us.
I appreciate that more than I can say. And rather than look back on what happened, I'm already looking forward to the next door design. I'm pretty sure it will be perfect.
It was also the kitchen of two doctors, which should have clued me in that my aspirations were about to get the better of my budget.
Our front door has always been one of my favorite things about the house—why not carry that design into the kitchen cabinets? The kitchen cabinets led to a new Gothic door for the dining room corner cabinet (one of Cynthia's brainstorms). And then I got the idea to make the vaulted ceiling into a Gothic arch too. It was all Gothic, all the time around here.
Today, the three long-awaited glass kitchen doors arrived. Each door took these meticulous craftsmen ten hours to build. They are a true feat of woodworking. And they are not quite right.
I saw at first glance that the curves looked too round and not steep enough, and my heart sank. Here they sat, the kitchen's focal point, after years of planning, months of waiting, and dozens of work hours, and they just weren't right.
What's amazing about this unfortunate and very frustrating development is that Nelson and I were able to talk it over and figure out what happened, without any rancor on either side. (He used the exact proportions of the cabinets in the photo, but since our cabinets aren't as tall, those proportions led to rounder curves.)
They are completely beautiful. They just aren't quite Gothic. And knowing how much labor went into them, I felt awful beyond words.
"This is not something to lose sleep over," Nelson said. "I don't want you to fret about it. We want you to be happy." He apologized for not doing a layout first for us to look over, and I apologized for not asking for one.
I asked for time to think it over, thinking they might look all right to me in the morning, and he said it was fine to think about it as long as I didn't worry about it.
"We'll make this the way you want," he said firmly, as we looked at three doors that had taken his son Joe the better part of a week to make—time I'm sure was not fully covered by the cabinet bid in the first place.
By the end of the conversation, we were both laughing. And after Doyle left Nelson a message that we did want to try again on the doors, but that we would pay for the extra labor, Nelson called us back to tell me again not to worry about it, that they would get it right, and that all was well between us.
I appreciate that more than I can say. And rather than look back on what happened, I'm already looking forward to the next door design. I'm pretty sure it will be perfect.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Molokini
Right off the coast of Maui is a little cresent-shaped island called Molokini. Doyle and I snorkeled near there when we visited Hawaii some 15 years ago, and saw countless sea turtles and brilliantly colored fish. Molokini is markedly smaller than the other islands, but it is no less beautiful.
With that idyllic trip in mind, I have dubbed our new island Molokini. It's a slender 18" wide (the counter will overhang by a foot on one side) and just five and half feet long—tiny compared to most new kitchen islands.
Don't get me wrong: those big islands are fabulous, and well worth a visit. There's so much to see! Our neighbors' new kitchen is the home of an amazing, very well-designed Big Island, and it has already enjoyed significant face time with a visiting celebrity chef. It's packed with so much storage space that I can envision some of the drawers being set aside for out-of-season clothing. There is truly a place for everything.
Our little island will house not everything, but more than you'd think: a microwave, four regular-sized drawers, and two wide, deep drawers for pots and pans. There will be room for Will and Anna to perch on stools and do homework or have after-school snacks. (The picture is misleading—it will be turned when it's installed, with the drawers facing the sink wall.)
Best of all, its location is ideal, which counts for a lot when you're talking about islands, or any real estate for that matter. It will direct traffic through the kitchen, creating a much-needed walkway outside the work area.
Traffic should move through our new kitchen as freely as fish dart around the warm waters of Hawaii. And given Anna's love of vivid hues and Will's collection of plaid shorts, our activity may be just as colorful.
With that idyllic trip in mind, I have dubbed our new island Molokini. It's a slender 18" wide (the counter will overhang by a foot on one side) and just five and half feet long—tiny compared to most new kitchen islands.
Don't get me wrong: those big islands are fabulous, and well worth a visit. There's so much to see! Our neighbors' new kitchen is the home of an amazing, very well-designed Big Island, and it has already enjoyed significant face time with a visiting celebrity chef. It's packed with so much storage space that I can envision some of the drawers being set aside for out-of-season clothing. There is truly a place for everything.
Our little island will house not everything, but more than you'd think: a microwave, four regular-sized drawers, and two wide, deep drawers for pots and pans. There will be room for Will and Anna to perch on stools and do homework or have after-school snacks. (The picture is misleading—it will be turned when it's installed, with the drawers facing the sink wall.)
Best of all, its location is ideal, which counts for a lot when you're talking about islands, or any real estate for that matter. It will direct traffic through the kitchen, creating a much-needed walkway outside the work area.
Traffic should move through our new kitchen as freely as fish dart around the warm waters of Hawaii. And given Anna's love of vivid hues and Will's collection of plaid shorts, our activity may be just as colorful.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Moving right along
This week brought more cabinets (everything but the glass doors, island, desk, and window seat is in place), surprisingly complex ceiling molding, and the long-awaited new concrete by the front and back doors. We considered having Ringo contribute a paw-print, similar to Will and Anna's 2002 driveway handprints, but decided against it.
Thankfully, we aren't trapped despite having fresh concrete at both doors. Chad and Jordan built a sort of wooden platform so we can use the front door without leaving shoe prints. There's a smaller wooden plank in back, too, but I think I'll just stick to the front door for the next day or two, until the concrete is set.
We also have an installation date for the granite: June 3. Mark your calendars!
The next big question is the paint colors for the walls in the kitchen and the office/entry. I had hoped to wait until the counters were in place to choose the wall color (colors?), but it is more efficient for the painter to do everything at once. And it would keep things moving along.
What do you think? Can you choose a good wall color based on a small chip of granite?
Thankfully, we aren't trapped despite having fresh concrete at both doors. Chad and Jordan built a sort of wooden platform so we can use the front door without leaving shoe prints. There's a smaller wooden plank in back, too, but I think I'll just stick to the front door for the next day or two, until the concrete is set.
We also have an installation date for the granite: June 3. Mark your calendars!
The next big question is the paint colors for the walls in the kitchen and the office/entry. I had hoped to wait until the counters were in place to choose the wall color (colors?), but it is more efficient for the painter to do everything at once. And it would keep things moving along.
What do you think? Can you choose a good wall color based on a small chip of granite?
Friday, May 7, 2010
It's returnable
Whenever my sister gives a present, there is something she is compelled to convey to the recipient before the first rip in the wrapping paper:
"It's returnable!"
I've been thinking about this a lot as we're making some final selections.
Returnable:
• Stainless steel undermount sinks from Overstock.com. Yes, sinks. I ordered one single-bowl and one double-bowl so we could look at them in person before deciding. With a flat rate of $2.95 for shipping, why not?
• Lights from Rejuvenation.com ... although they cannot be returned once they have been installed. Still, it's comforting to know we can send them back if we don't like them out of the box.
• Disposer from Overstock.com (where I was thrilled to find Consumer Reports' top-rated disposer for half the suggested retail cost--a Waste King model with a lifetime warranty).
• Cabinet hardware from Restoration Hardware. Incidentally, they told me that if I order it by calling the Kansas City store instead of through the catalog or website, I won't pay tax or shipping. Nice.
Not Returnable:
• Floor tile (still in the beehive kiln in Ohio, or else being meshed by people who wish this idea had never occurred to us). If we don't like it, look for forty square feet of herringbone mosaic coming soon to eBay. Since it's custom, I can understand why it's not returnable.
• Marble backsplash tile. Not custom, yet also not returnable. Which is why I've decided to wait to order these until the counters are in place, so I can be sure I like them together.
• Kitchen faucet. It would have been returnable during the first week if uninstalled, but how am I supposed to tell if I like it before it's installed and has water running through it? It's a Grohe; I was amazed that prices varied by up to $100 from different online suppliers.
The cabinets are so handsome. I love the doors and the beading detail. And I have my fingers crossed that the Gothic muntins for the three glass doors will be the perfect finishing touch.
"It's returnable!"
I've been thinking about this a lot as we're making some final selections.
Returnable:
• Stainless steel undermount sinks from Overstock.com. Yes, sinks. I ordered one single-bowl and one double-bowl so we could look at them in person before deciding. With a flat rate of $2.95 for shipping, why not?
• Lights from Rejuvenation.com ... although they cannot be returned once they have been installed. Still, it's comforting to know we can send them back if we don't like them out of the box.
• Disposer from Overstock.com (where I was thrilled to find Consumer Reports' top-rated disposer for half the suggested retail cost--a Waste King model with a lifetime warranty).
• Cabinet hardware from Restoration Hardware. Incidentally, they told me that if I order it by calling the Kansas City store instead of through the catalog or website, I won't pay tax or shipping. Nice.
Not Returnable:
• Floor tile (still in the beehive kiln in Ohio, or else being meshed by people who wish this idea had never occurred to us). If we don't like it, look for forty square feet of herringbone mosaic coming soon to eBay. Since it's custom, I can understand why it's not returnable.
• Marble backsplash tile. Not custom, yet also not returnable. Which is why I've decided to wait to order these until the counters are in place, so I can be sure I like them together.
• Kitchen faucet. It would have been returnable during the first week if uninstalled, but how am I supposed to tell if I like it before it's installed and has water running through it? It's a Grohe; I was amazed that prices varied by up to $100 from different online suppliers.
The cabinets are so handsome. I love the doors and the beading detail. And I have my fingers crossed that the Gothic muntins for the three glass doors will be the perfect finishing touch.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
