The Kitchen Floor.

With my vision obscured by the rose-colored glasses that I evidently donned before every viewing of our house, I’d failed to properly take note of the condition of the kitchen floor. I knew something had to be done about it, but I wasn’t too concerned about exactly what. I figured I had a few options that involved either painting or covering up the existing vinyl tiles, but figured I’d just evaluate the situation properly once we got there.

floorbefore

But then we got to the house. And the floor was like this. Yeah, parts of it were missing. Parts of it were crumbling. The rest of it was horrifically filthy. It was really, really bad.

In the process of cleaning up the crumbly bits and disposing of the tiles that had already completely separated from the subfloor, I realized that none of the tiles were really stuck down. Over the course of 50-60 years and the past two winters of the house freezing, all of the old adhesive holding the floor down had failed. So up came the tiles, one by one, with relative ease on our second night in the house.

floorduringpaint

And then we were left with the old plywood underlayment. I thought briefly about removing the underlayment to expose the original pine-plank subfloor, but then I realized that there was actually a whole second layer of linoleum under the plywood underlayment, with an attending second layer of plywood underlayment over the original pine planks. There’s really no telling what kind of condition the pine subfloor will be in, but at BEST I would have had to sand and refinish or paint it (a decision I’m not really ready to make), and at worst I would have had to cover it all back up with something else. And because these layers of flooring run underneath the base cabinets and the radiator, we would have had to remove the base cabinets, the sink, and the radiator, then figure out the floor situation, then reinstall everything, and have the plumbing for the radiator altered to make up for the height difference between the old floor and the new floor, and…well, you see how complicated things get.

So, paint to the rescue! Paint fixes everything! Always! Right? This was my big plan:

1. Clean the underlayment.

2. Prime the underlayment.

3. Paint the underlayment.

4. Hooray new floor! Maybe throw a cute rug on top, and it would look great. (and by “great,” I mean good enough to see us through until we gut this whole crazy room someday.)

So I cleaned. And I primed. So far so good. Then I painted. Admittedly, we were doomed from the start because I did not buy the right type of paint. I should have bought a paint formulated especially for floors (usually called Porch & Floor Paint), which is much thinner and more durable than regular old paint. It should have been something like a satin finish. Instead, they didn’t seem to have that at Lowes (the paint person looked at me like I had three heads), and instead of figuring out where to buy the right thing, I just panicked and bought a can of Rustoleum Oil-Based Black Gloss paint.

When I decided to start painting (in the middle of the night, like you do), I thought maybe it looked kind of awesome and amazing. It was fun seeing the floor black instead of disgusting or white, so I felt like I did a good thing.

Then the next day rolled around. I went to inspect my handiwork.

In a matter of minutes, I worked myself up from “OK, so it’s not what I had in mind,” to “it definitely makes the seams and imperfections more noticeable…” to “Oh man, I walked on it and it immediately looks like a filthy garbage monster,” to “OH GOD MAKE IT GO AWAY MAKE IT GO AWAY PLEASE.”

floorafterpaint

I had not done a good thing.

Now, I’m not the type to cry over shit like this. But if I were, I would have been sobbing. I hated my floor. Max hated my floor. My dogs looked at me like WTF is this, I hate you and your dumb floor. I could see it in their little judgmental dog-eyes. This was probably the lowest point in the whole kitchen renovation. On top of confronting my own failure as somebody who is generally OK at making ugly things look not-ugly, we also had Max’s whole family in town during this ordeal who witnessed how bad my floor looked. Everyone could see that it was bad. There was no hiding how bad it was. So there was personal failure, there was shame, and there was also a heat wave.

Oh yeah, the heat wave. When the weather first started hinting at getting hot, Max and I bought a window A/C unit for our bedroom, and figured that’s all we really needed to survive the summer. I can deal with a little heat during the day, so I wasn’t too concerned about the rest of the house heating up like a sweat lodge. But then it got hotter. And hotter. And hotter. And I was putting in very long days in the kitchen. And it was so hot. And I got SO. CRAZY.

After living with the newly painted floor for about 24 hours, something had to be done. I begged Max to let me rip it all up and expose the subfloor. I pleaded. The conversation was kind of like this:

Me: I HATE THIS FLOOR.

Max: Yeah, it’s not good. Sorry.

Me: PLEASE LET ME RIP IT UP.

Max: But you said that was a bad idea?

Me: FORGET WHAT I SAID LET ME RIP IT ALL UP I HATE IT.

Max: How are you going to get the cabinets out? How are you going to get the sink out? How are you going to get the radiator out? Maybe you should sit down.

Me: I’LL WORRY ABOUT ALL THAT TINA BRING ME THE AXE.

Max: I think it’s time to take my family out to brunch? We should go?

The next morning, I awoke early with a hankering for some soul-searching. I got in my car. I stopped to get iced coffee. I drove. I drove really far. I wanted to put as much distance between myself and my failed kitchen floor as I could. In a dramatic movie version of my life, this would have happened at night and it would have been storming and the water rushing over my windshield would have mirrored the tears flowing from my eyes. Also, I would have had a real problem like a break-up or a dead child or bunions, instead of a crappy paint job, but we do the best we can with what we have, am I right?

Heat wave. I was so tired and so fragile.

water

In the real version of my life, though, the weather was beautiful the Hudson River Valley is a gorgeous place with mountains and trees and blue skies and water, and none of this helped me nurse my bitterness. I also forgot that at some point I deleted the playlist off my iPod I filled with depressing songs I have to aid me in my periodic bouts of shame and failure, so I didn’t even have the right soundtrack. All of this nice stuff was super frustrating, since I really just wanted to feel awful by myself for a while. Stupid iPod. Stupid sunshine. Stupid mountains and beautiful lakes.

In the midst of all of this, I had a moment of clarity and I knew what needed to be done. Kind of. I knew enough. So I went to Lowes, and loaded up on black VCT (Vinyl Composition Tile) flooring, adhesive, and trowel. Then I got home.

Max: Where were you?? I got worried.

Me: I don’t know. I went for a drive. I got us a floor.

Max: OH THANK GOD CAN YOU INSTALL IT RIGHT NOW.

Since questionable decisions often beget more questionable decisions, I decided that I really didn’t need to worry about installing my floor 100% by the book, which is why I will not be posting instructions for this particular project. The deal with VCT is that it really should have a very even surface to adhere to, so you’re supposed to fill any seams in the underlayment or nail holes or anything like that with a special patching compound, wait for it to dry, and sand it all smooth. Any raised bumps in the flooring need to go, since they’ll end up looking about a thousand times worse through the tile, approximately. Then you’re supposed to figure out the center of the room and snap a series of semi-complicated math-y chalk-lines to show how your tiles should be aligned, since you shouldn’t really use a wall as a guide since walls are notoriously not-square, particularly in old houses. It’s all a little intimidating, but manageable, and in retrospect, I probably should have done everything right instead of cutting corners.

But…heat wave. Desperation. Failure. Shame. Here was my logic:

1. Well, I’ve already messed it up by painting the floor. This adhesive specifically says it isn’t supposed to go on top of paint. But some dude I found on some random message board on the Internet said it was probably OK, so I guess it’s definitely OK.

2. Whatever, so the floor will have imperfections. You know what else has imperfections? Oh, I don’t know, how about EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD (except Martha Stewart)?? I mean, seriously, what makes this floor so goddamned special?

3. Notwithstanding the incident when all of the tiles decided to crumble and pop up all at once, this subfloor was perfectly fine for the vinyl tiles that were here before. It did it once, it can do it again.

4. Realistically, this floor just has to look passably good and last somewhere between 5-10 years until we install the Dream Kitchen (hopefully?), so I guess I’ll just start spreading adhesive and making this thingy happen!

So that’s what I did. Adhesive. Let it tack up. Lay tile. Roll out the seams. Lather, rinse, repeat, for many hours.

About an hour into this process, my friends Anna, Evan, and Ilenia decided to drop by the house to see it for the first time and have a nice little visit. Because Anna is a VCT-laying veteran herself and master of doing things VERY WELL, I was anxious about her seeing the beginning stages of my handiwork, but hoped she would just tell me it would all be OK. She did not.

Anna: Oh! Ohhhh. Hmmmm. Yeah. Um. You know you’re supposed to start at the center, so the whole floor isn’t crooked? Like you really can’t rely on that wall.

Me: I know.

Anna: And, um, can you even use this adhesive over paint?

Me: I don’t know. KartRacer23 said probably, so I’m hoping it works.

Anna: You don’t think you should at least prime it again first?

Me: I don’t know. No. I don’t want to.

Evan: It’s, like, REALLY hot in here.

Max: RIGHT? THANK YOU. I’ve been telling Daniel that we need an A/C unit.

Anna: You don’t have an A/C unit??

Me: We have one in the bedroom.

Anna: But nothing down here?? Oh, that’s…bad. It’s probably too hot for this adhesive to ever dry.

Me: It’s fine.

Evan: Dude, you really need an A/C unit.

Me: I DON’T NEED ANYTHING I’M FINE JUST LIKE I AM EVERYONE LEAVE ME ALONE.

[Anna picks up one of my VCT tiles; it bends and breaks in her hand.]

Anna: Daniel, it’s so hot that the tiles are melting.

Me: THAT’S JUST HOW THEY ARE.

Anna: Are you OK? Do you need a little break?

Me: WHY IS EVERYONE LOOKING AT ME LIKE THIS I’M TOTALLY FINE I’M JUST GOING TO LAY THIS TILE NOW.

Anna: Evan, will you drive Max to Best Buy to get an A/C unit? Get the big portable kind.

Listen to your friends, folks. Max and Evan returned with the biggest, baddest A/C unit around. And iced coffees for all.

floorduringinstall

Things improved from there. I got the floor down. It looks terrific. Everyone was happy. Linus approves.

The floor is slightly crooked, and there are a couple little bumps here and there, but overall, I’m really happy with it. The adhesive seems to be holding on just fine, and I feel overall very optimistic about this floor surviving as long as it needs to and looking pretty great doing it.

I added new quarter-round around the baseboards and lower cabinets to finish everything off. It looks awesome.

after2

Here you can kind of see how the black of the VCT relates to the grey-black-blue cabinets. I dig it. I still have to polish the floor with a special VCT finishing treatment——it comes with a slight waxy factory-finish, but it’ll be much shinier and a bit darker and better-looking after the polish. I wanted to wait until we were done creating crazy amounts of dust and debris in the kitchen before getting to that step, though (which I just finished doing yesterday. Hopefully. I think.). Aside from looking good, all of the VCT and supplies only cost about $200 (I used Tarkett brand, which is $.66 per square foot), so I feel good about going for a brand new floor and avoiding spending heaps of money. It’s also super easy to clean, and the pattern adds a nice little somethin’-somethin’ to the kitchen, I think. Much better if it was just painted, which would look really flat and unfinished, even if I had bought the right paint.

after1

I’m intentionally being very vague about these after pictures because…the kitchen is almost done! I have to save a FEW little surprises for the reveal, right? Speaking of…I still need to do some final painting and beautifying and reattaching hardware and stuff, but I really want to have a reveal post up on Monday! Can I do it? I don’t know!

No, seriously, I don’t know.

Want to read about the kitchen renovation from start to finish? Pregame the reveal post like so:

1. Inspiration and a Plan!
2. The Kitchen Begins!
3. Endless Prep Work
4. Paint and Tile!
5. Cabinets and Grout!
6. DIY Wood Plank Countertops!

House
Tagged:

Safe Haven: The Bedroom!

window

One of the weirder things about our home renovation is that we came here with very little stuff. There was some spill-over from the apartment——a few little things I’d been saving——but by and large, we’re starting fresh. We’re furnishing very slowly, as we find pieces that we both like and fit our budget of wildly cheap/free, and we’re also going to be getting a few pieces of furniture from my parents, who are downsizing from my childhood home to a new condo in a few months. We have to wait on that stuff, but I’m really excited to have it. My family has always been weirdos about passing hand-me-down furniture around  across impractical distances, so I’m glad that tradition is continuing in my generation.

Prior to moving in, I had certain ideas about what the first few months in the house would be like. I reasoned that it would be a luxury to have no furniture while we were busy painting and stripping wallpaper and all that, since there would be less stuff to work around.  We’d work until our whole bodies ached, and then we’d collapse onto an air-mattress made for camping, which would be serving triple-duty as a bed, a sofa, and a dining table, since we’d have none of these things. It would be like an extended camping trip, and everyone says camping is fun!

We bought the air mattress on our first night, but soon realized that my plan had several flaws. The first was that camping is not fun, and camping in a house is probably less fun than real camping because you aren’t supposed to be filthy and uncomfortable in a house. The bigger issue was that renovating——while gratifying——is also hard. It’s physically demanding and draining work, and by the end of the day (or, more accurately, the middle of the night), you really just want to escape a little bit and go somewhere that isn’t in chaos. Somewhere that’s actually pretty clean and comfortable and looks kind of OK? It took about one night on the air mattress for me to go from trying to be really hardcore about this whole thing to just wanting a few small luxuries to counterbalance the world of crazy we’d just opened for ourselves. So, aside from the kitchen, we decided that the bedroom really needed to be a priority. Not getting it done and fully decorated and looking perfect, of course, but enough that we could close it off at the end of the day and feel good about things.

bedroomwide

So here we go! Sorry the picture is terrible. Very much a work in progress, but there’s a bed and side tables and lamps and even a rug! I’m sure this room will change a lot over time (as in, the only thing I really want in here in the longterm is the bed!), but it feels good right now.

beddetail

We found the bed in an antiques store in Saugerties (which is a town a little bit north of us) called Newberry Antiques. I have a serious soft spot for an Art Deco piece of furniture here and there, and I was blown away by the condition of this bed as soon as I saw it, since these pieces often have tons of chipped or missing veneer. I figured it would be a bajillion dollars, but it was priced at $250, which I got dropped to $200 (never hurts to ask!), and I was sold!

When buying vintage beds, it’s important to MEASURE. I’m not sure exactly when mattress sizes were standardized, but often vintage/antique beds are weird sizes and need to be altered to fit modern mattresses, but luckily this one was a standard full size! Bed frames always look weirdly tiny without an actual mattress in them, so don’t just eyeball it. If you don’t have a measuring tape, antique stores always have one on hand for you, and often even thrift stores do, too! Often the matching side rails are hiding somewhere else in the store, and it’s easy to cut slats to hold the mattress up——we just used about a dozen 1 x 4 pieces of cheap pine, and the whole thing is very solid.

The other thing to remember is that vintage beds were made before the time of these crazy 22″-thick pillow-top enormous mattresses you can buy these days, so don’t go trying to put something like that on an old bed. It will look ridiculous. I don’t like mattresses like that, anyway (my back seems to prefer very cheap, firm mattresses), but with vintage beds, you want a mattress that’s about 10″ thick, give or take a couple inches. PSA, over.

bed1

The duvet cover is from IKEA. I like it! The side table came with us from the apartment (I’d still love to find a better top for it), and the lamp is vintage from a junk shop. The cord situation is a little annoying, but the outlet placement in this room is strange. Hopefully we can have a couple more receptacles installed down the line.

mekko

The rug is from the Nate Berkus collection at Target, and it comes Mekko-approved. It’s not really the right rug for this space, but that’s OK. It makes it feel like a real room, and that’s the goal!

When the kitchen is done (so close!), we’ll probably turn our attention to this room, but for real this time. We have a thrifted dresser sitting in the garage waiting for me to repair and refinish it, and all the walls need to be stripped and painted. As you can see in the pictures, there’s some serious flaking/peeling going on (that’s what happens with there’s like 3 layers of wallpaper and a million layers of paint separating from old plaster walls that weren’t heated for two winters!), but we’ll get to it! One thing at a time.

DIY Wood Plank Countertops

oldcounter

UPDATE: If you want to see how these countertops fared and were eventually upgraded with another cheap DIY solution, head on over here…)

As we have established many times over by now, my kitchen was full of a lot of nightmarish problems that added up to everything being pretty much terrible and disgusting. One of the things that was actually OK, though, were the old countertops. I’m sure they were original to the rest of our 1950s kitchen, and they’d actually held up pretty well over time——fairly scratched up and pitted in a few places, but overall there wasn’t anything terribly wrong with them. I even kind of like the off-white/gold-flecked formica thing in the right space, but they just really didn’t fit with the overall design plan of the room. Even though it goes against most of my instincts to start getting rid of things that are more or less functional, this was just one of those situations where it made sense.

I thought briefly of doing this super cool faux-concrete treatment to the existing counters, which seems relatively easy and looks great, but I felt really strongly that the countertops should be wood. I love the section of butcher block I have in my apartment kitchen, and given that the rest of the room is mainly black and white, I worried that the concrete would end up making things feel too cold and flat——the kitchen really needs some wood color and texture to bring it to life and inject some warmth.

I really wanted butcher block counters, but even at IKEA (which seems to be the cheapest option around, after much researching), the countertops alone would have run me about $320, not to mention the cost of transporting them here. The closest IKEA is a little over an hour away, and I have a tiny car, so it would have required a car rental…and a headache…and tears…and all of a sudden butcher block felt a little out of range. I know I keep repeating this, but we hope to totally redo this kitchen *for real* sometime down the line, so I didn’t really want to invest that much time and money in fancy countertops that——more likely than not——won’t get reused in a future renovation. So I wanted cheap, fast wood counters that wouldn’t be too precious but would get the job done.

countertopwood

I decided to check out the offerings at the local lumber yard, and found 2″ x 12″ x 12′ and 2″ x 6″ x 12′ fir framing lumber, priced at $19.01 and $8.05 per piece, respectively. Since I needed two pieces of 2″ x 12″ x 12′ and one piece of 2″ x 6″ x 12″, that’s $46.07 for new countertops! I decided to buy an extra piece of each, just in case I messed something up, and have it all delivered for an extra 20 clams.

Because lumber is weird, 2″ thick lumber is actually 1.5″ thick (which is standard for countertops), 12″ is a little less than 12″, and I needed my counters to be 25″ deep, so I needed to bond three boards together to achieve the right dimensions.

Now. Admittedly, these countertops are not fancy. They look very homespun and a little…rustic, which I actually kind of like. If I really knew what I was doing and had the right tools and supplies, I would have ripped the edges of the boards on my table saw (which I don’t have) and joined my pieces of lumber with a biscuit joiner (which I don’t have) and planed down my boards with a planer (which I don’t have) and I would have had nicer countertops. At least I think that’s what I would have done? Like I said. Not fancy.

Instead, what I did have is my handy little Kreg Jig! I bought this thing for a freelance project a while back, and it does a fabulous job of joining pieces of wood easily by helping you drill nice little pocket holes. The joint ends up being really strong and pretty hassle-free and easy to do. I bought a cheaper pocket hole drilling guide thing before I got the Kreg, and I have to say that the Kreg is really worth the extra cost at about $100, if you’re going to use it.

drilling

Here’s how it works! Basically you put the wood in, set the height adjustment, and drill your holes. I forgot that the bond is much stronger if you drill two holes instead of one at each screw placement, so I did that for the second countertop (which I stupidly did not photograph). I eyeballed where the screws should be, placing one about every 8 inches.

holes

They sell special clamps for keeping the wood level with itself (if you just try to screw it, the piece you’re screwing into tends to lift up about an 1/8″) but I just used the very pro method of having my friend Nora stand on the joint to keep it level while I screwed. I like to pre-place all my screws in the holes beforehand, since it’s easy to lose track of which holes have screws in them, and they’re almost impossible to see after they’re sunk in the pocket holes.

nora-sanding

I used my circular saw to cut the depth down after everything was joined together, and then we started in on the sanding! Framing lumber tends to be VERY rough, so the sanding was definitely the worst part of this whole thing. Nora and I just switched on and off when our arms began to feel like Jell-O, and it probably took about an hour (maybe more) for each countertop. We started with 60 grit sandpaper and just worked our way up the ranks, finishing with 220 grit. The lumber went from being super rough and a little ugly to suuuuuupppper smooth and soft and gorgeous.

sanded

After the sanding, this is about what we were left with. The bigger knots aren’t going anywhere, but the other parts felt like silk. So lux.

If I were going to do this all over again, I probably would have tried to have the adjoining edges at least ripped on a table saw about 1/4″, since the edges of the framing lumber aren’t very crisp. With perfect flat edges, the joints probably could have been tighter and more seamless, but I don’t really mind. I actually made a smaller section of countertop for my friend Anna after I made my own and attempted to do this with a circular saw and a rigid metal cutting guide, and that worked pretty well. Not perfect, but perfection is overrated!

countertop

I’m not entirely sure what to seal the countertops with in the long-term, but for now I put a generous coating of mineral oil on them to give them some water resistance and bring out the natural color of the fir. I love the way the wood looks with all of the knots and imperfections, and the tone of the wood is so pretty. I think they’ll look nice over time as they get dings and scratches, too——I like when things like this look well-used and have some character. The wood is too soft to double as a cutting board, but we’ll have a section of butcher block directly next to the stove and normal cutting boards available for all of our chopping desires, so I’m not worried about it.

If we had a bigger budget, we probably would have just sprung for actual butcher block, but for about $80 for all the materials and delivery (since I also had to buy the proper screws and a buttload of sandpaper), I feel pretty good about these counters! We’ve been using them for a couple of weeks now, and they’re doing exactly what they need to do, and that’s good enough for me!

beforeandprogress

Imagine with me for a moment that there are cabinet doors and drawers and new hardware and a different floor and pretty things on the counters and no hanging wires or weird exposed plumbing in that second picture. Also that I hadn’t left that little yellow sponge on the floor.

Can you see it? I can see it.

Cabinets! Grout!

People who have gone through major renovations tend to have a lot of sage advice about how to stay sane, follow through on tasks, and get the job done in an orderly, timely, and efficient fashion. They excel by keeping careful lists, the items of which they dutifully check off, taking its diminishing length as evidence of their success and the motivation to keep going. They keep their tools organized, in polite drawers and on pegboards, and they always know where their drill bits and pliers are.

I tried kind of hard to be like that, at the beginning. I spent a good 45 minutes every single night putting away all my tools and organizing everything. I was even going to do a whole post about it, like a total model citizen grown-up who knows how to not be a disaster.

All of that fell apart really quickly when we decided in a bout of excited, rash decision-making to start painting the kitchen cabinets! Seeing as we have no furniture, I was storing all my things in the kitchen cabinets and drawers. Losing the use of the drawers, I just sort of threw everything into the side porch (mistake #1) and then proceeded to let everything go to pieces like a wild animal (mistake #2). I decided to maybe just relax a little. Loosen the reigns. Let instinct and intuition guide my process. What could go wrong?

sandingfactory

First I removed all the cabinet doors and drawers and moved them outside. I’m not generally a stupid person, but for some reason it hadn’t occurred to me just how many there would be——I think 18 cabinet doors and 15 drawers. As we found out, having over 30 small separate kitchen components that all need to be sanded, patched, painted, and reattached with no plan or system in place is not a recipe for an efficient painting experience.

Then I put everyone to work (Max, Nora, Mekko) on sanding everything, because I’m a merciless dictator. Since we’re painting rather than refinishing, we didn’t need to go down to bare wood, but we did need to rough up the surface enough for the paint to adhere, while also smoothing out existing imperfections. It looks like at some point these cabinets were polyurethaned in place, so a lot of them were covered in dried-on bumpy drips or traces of old adhesive or other nastiness that had to be worked out.

cabinetsbefore

SIDE NOTE. Before anyone gets up in my grill about painting perfectly nice wood cabinets!, know this: these cabinets were totally disgusting and totally gauged and messed up and terrible. They’re going to look way better painted, and refinishing them would have been a ton of horrible work for a really mediocre outcome and then everyone would be so sad.

OK. That’s settled. I said so.

fillingholes

After sanding everything, we wiped it all down with a damp cloth and a little slightly soapy water and patched all the old hardware holes! Originally, I thought maybe I’d reuse the old hardware to save some time and money, but it was really corroded and generally destroyed to the point that even Barkeeper’s Friend couldn’t save it, and I didn’t like it enough to spray paint, so it had to go. We’ll reuse the hinges, though.

We used Ready Patch for the holes, which is really a spackle compound made for walls, but I like it for small applications like this. I haven’t had good experiences with most wood fillers since they always tend to dry sort of grainy and weird, even after sanding (except for Bondo, but that would have been major overkill), and I didn’t want to have a visual textural difference where the holes were patched, so I figured this was my best bet at a seamless finish. I wouldn’t recommend a gypsum-based product for wood repair in any case where it has to hold up to heavy wear and tear, or any patch much bigger than something like this.

sandingholes

After the Ready Patch was dry (a few hours out in the sun), I went over all the holes again with a little mouse sander. A sanding block would have been just as good, but this made the whole process super fast.

paintingdrawerfronts

The painting part is where having a good plan and system and dedicated staging area would have really come in handy. I’m not really sure what we were thinking, but we ended up painting the doors and drawer fronts days apart, and the whole process dragged on forever. It could have been WAY easier if we just took the time and set it all up and did everything en masse, but…I don’t know. There was a lot going on. I wasn’t thinking. Chaos.

We did up our speed and efficiency moderately, though, by using a roller to coat the surfaces and then quickly following up with a paintbrush. This might be controversial, and call me crazy, but I really don’t like the look of painted furniture when it has any kind of roller texture. Short of spray painting everything or using oil paint (spray paint doesn’t allow for the color selection and would get really expensive, and both spray and oil are hassles), it’s hard to literally have no texture when painting cabinets, so I guess I’d just rather see very subtle brush strokes than very subtle roller bumpiness. It’s a weird personal preference thing. I can’t explain it.

To minimize either, though, it helps to water down the paint a little bit. It wasn’t hard or terribly time-consuming to paint this stuff, so I didn’t mind doing 3 coats instead of 2 and waiting a little longer for it to cure. We used the same Clark + Kensington paint on the cabinets that we used on the walls, but the thickness of the paint that makes it great for walls isn’t exactly what you want for the texture of cabinets.

The color of the base cabinets is called Arabian Nights, by the way, and we used the Satin Enamel formula, which isn’t as shiny as semi-gloss but still totally wipeable and has a nice sheen to it. I love the color——like a super dark inky grey-blue-black. It’s going to look sooooo good.

tealights

We painted the doors the same way as the drawers, with the added help of a big bag of tea lights from the as-is section of IKEA! They were perfect for putting under the four corners to hold them off the ground a little, so paint didn’t puddle or anything. I felt very smug and clever about this.

Maxpainting

While this drawer/door shenanigans were going on, we were also painting the cabinet frames! We prepped the cabinets by sanding all of the frames (there was so much dust and disarray in the room anyway that adding more didn’t really matter) and then caulked the seams, since gaps between the frames would be extra-noticeable once they’re painted. We didn’t prime the lower cabinets, but since we’re painting the upper cabinets white, we figured it would be worthwhile to do a coat of primer first, just to ensure that anything in the wood was sealed in and wouldn’t eventually visibly leech through the paint. Paint + primer types of paints are GREAT for covering dark-colored walls and stuff, but if stain-blocking is a concern, it’s safer to just go ahead and prime. We used the same B-I-N shellac-based primer that we’ve used on other parts of the room.

Also, look! Max is painting! All this kind of stuff has always been really more *my thing*, but there is way too much to do in this house for me to take it all on by myself (or with amazing friends, when we’re lucky enough to have them). It’s already made us so much better at working together on stuff like this, and I’m really proud of Max for being open to learning how to do things, even if it isn’t where his interests necessarily lie. He’s good, that one.

I mostly just wanted to use this picture because Max’s chosen painting outfit of a bathing suit and one of my t-shirts is really cute. He has thusfar refused to sacrifice any of his real wardrobe to a dedicated DIY outfit. Shall we wager how long that lasts?

grout

Sometime during all of this, I also grouted the tile! Grouting tile (especially with black grout) is one of those scary and awful experiences, but once it’s done…

tilelightswitches

Oh yes. Hello. I want to lick you.

The corner and the gaps between the sink and the tile still need to be caulked and the wall and molding still need to be painted in this picture, but still. Tile. It makes my world go round.

I also changed all the light switches and outlets! I don’t know why, but this was honestly one of the best improvements in the kitchen to date. Changing light switches is INCREDIBLY quick, cheap, and easy, and just immediately makes things feel fresh and updated. I chose to use these flat switches instead of normal toggle switches. They’re slightly more expensive (like $2.50 instead of $1, something like that), but I think they look nicer.

gfci

I chose to install GFCI receptacles for all of the kitchen outlets, which is now required by National Electrical Code for kitchens and bathrooms. Each outlet costs about $13, which is kind of a drag, but it’s nice to make things safer and all that. GFCI outlets install a little differently than normal outlets, but it’s still something pretty easy that anyone can do, assuming you have access to turn off the power from your electrical panel first! (here’s a video if you also want fancy GFCI outlets with subtly modern little green lights on them. The outlet will also come with semi-clear instructions to help you out.)

linus

Here is an action-packed picture of Linus assisting with the great cabinet effort of July, 2013, since clearly I’ve run out of things to talk about and it’s lame to end a post talking about electrical outlets.

House
Tagged:

Paint and Tile!

painting

I used to think painting was the worst thing in the world. I was OK with the part that came before——spackling a few holes, a little sanding, maybe cleaning the walls a little——and I liked the part that came after, when the room was painted. But the actual process of painting——the endless cutting-in, the rolling, the paint drips and splatters and going to sleep with dried paint in my hair and under my finger nails——those were all things I dreaded.

But by the time I finally filled all the holes with patching compound and filled the gaps with caulk and de-greased and de-caulked and got through all the prep work in my kitchen, painting kind of felt like fun arts-n-crafts time? Like a nice way to kick back and relax? Maybe I actually like painting? Maybe I’m going through a very confusing identity crisis? Maybe my whole perception of reality has been irrevocably altered?

paintcans

If you’ve read my blog for a while, you might have noticed that I’m a very firm believer in buying good paint, which for me has always meant Benjamin Moore. It’s what my mom always used in our house growing up, and it’s what I’ve always used by myself, save for once making the enormous mistake of using really cheap paint at a friend’s house and discovering sometime around my 4th or 5th coat that quality really does make a huge difference when it comes to coverage, adhesion, durability, and the final result looking good. From then on, I just accepted that my future would be composed of $40-$50 gallons of paint, and that was that. That’s more or less OK when you’re looking at a small apartment with a landlord willing to cover $20/gallon, but it sort of blows when you’re looking at a whole house of walls, doors, and moldings literally begging and pleading to be repaired and freshly painted.

So, when Ace Hardware offered to let me try out their new-ish brand of paint and primer in one, Clark + Kensington, I decided to take the chance. I warned them that my allegiance was elsewhere, and that it’s my policy to always give honest reviews and they’d have to be as OK with me not liking the paint as they were sure that I would, and they agreed. So confident. So sure of themselves.

Real talk: this paint is dope. I was really expecting it to be pretty mediocre, but I found it to be pretty much on-par with the Aura line of Benjamin Moore paints——which is quite an endorsement, because that’s some fancy paint—— except about $30 per gallon instead of over $60. This is hard for me to say, but…I think I’m converted!

The paint can also be color-matched to several different brands (including Benjamin Moore and Farrow & Ball), but I wanted to check out the Clark + Kensington colors for myself! And by colors, I mean various shades of black and white. You know how I do.

ceiling

As usual, I started by cutting in the ceiling. This was a massive pain in the tuchus because the seams in the sheetrock on the ceiling are covered in those thin wooden strips rather than taped and mudded, so all of that needed to be painted by hand. I used a regular roller for the panels in between.

Check out how gross that ceiling is. It is the most gross.

disaster

With the ceiling all painted with two coats of Designer White in Flat Enamel (which is a pre-mixed off-the-shelf white, which I’m using on the moldings and upper cabinets, too), we started in on the walls and cabinets! I’ll save the cabinet painting for another post, but this was about the stage when I started to get really excited about the kitchen. It was also a period of sort of non-stop marathon crazy work in here, which is why this photo was taken at like 2 in the morning and everything is a total disaster.

I stayed up super late painting, and in the morning….

disasterafter

ANGELS SANG.

There really is nothing better than fresh paint.

I know this picture might not look like much since obviously the doors and moldings still need to be painted, and I didn’t paint the backsplashes, but getting the walls over with was an incredible feeling. I used a color called Casablanca on the walls, which is an extremely pale grey. Obviously it reads as very white, but it’s different enough from the ceiling and molding to give the room a little more dimension than if everything was the same shade.

beforeprogress

Words can’t even describe, y’all.

tilefirstrow2

That night, my friend Nora and I also put in the first row of tiles! Sorry about the horrendous nighttime iPhone shots. These are just plain old American Olean white 3×6 subway tiles from Lowes, which are super cheap at about $.22/tile. I know it might seem silly to install tile backsplashes in a kitchen that we aren’t planning to keep forever, but I already had the thinset and black grout from tiling my kitchen in the apartment, so for about $100 for all of the tile, it seemed like a really worthwhile aesthetic and functional upgrade to just go for it. Also, Nora wanted to learn to tile, and I believe in being a gracious host by making my friends work super hard until the wee hours of the morning in July with no A/C in exchange for letting them sleep on a shitty air mattress and cook for me. That’s just manners.

Since I just did a whole tutorial on tiling backsplashes (here and here), it didn’t seem necessary to rehash the whole process again, especially since I would have done a few things differently if it needed to last forever. Obviously, I didn’t paint the backsplashes or really prep them at all first (in a perfect world, I wouldn’t be using drywall as backing at all!), and I barely planned out how the tile would run before just slapping them on the walls. And yes, I used cardboard and stir sticks to hold up my first row instead of something more rigid and precise. And yes, I started the tiles at the top edge of the base cabinets, not the countertops, because with the height of the upper cabinets, this was the best way to cover the most surface area of the backsplashes with tile without having a huge weird gap at the top, if that makes sense. So yeah. It’s not perfect, but it’s still going to look totally fine when everything is done. “Totally fine” is kind of this room’s guiding principle, lest you haven’t noticed.

thinset

I’m just including this picture because I got smart and bought myself a stirring attachment for my drill to mix the thinset and grout. CHANGED. MY. LIFE. Stirring thinset with a paint stick or a spoon or whatever is really difficult and tiring (you’re supposed to mix for 5 minutes, let it sit, then mix it again for 5 more minutes), and this handy attachment just takes all of that work away. FYI.

tile

The next day, after the bottom row had time to harden up, we mixed up more thinset and got back to work! I really should have planned this so that the end of the run (where it meets the vertical trim pieces, not the corner) would be composed of full and half-tiles instead of these weird in-between fraction tiles, but I didn’t do that. Oh well. Again, with everything done and grouted and the room complete, it’ll be fine. I’m just pointing it out because I’m human and I make mistakes and mistakes are bound to happen, and now I know better! (and my bathroom/future kitchen tiling will be PERFECTION. Mark my words. I know things now.)

tileprogress

tilesink

First I thought I’d do the subway tile level all the way around the room (so the backsplashes and this sink area would all have the same number of rows of tile), but then that seemed a little too dinky for here. Then I thought maybe I’d take the tile all the way to the ceiling (well, to the bottom of the big hollow soffit over the sink, anyway) in this sink area, but that had a whole mess of complications I won’t bore you with, including maybe just looking weird. Then I used the super-professional method of eyeballing it until the proportions seemed right, which is why there are more tiles here than the other areas of the kitchen. Science!

Overall, there was just a ton of fudging and making it work and eventually throwing my arms up with a hearty GOOD ENOUGH! in this area around the sink. Trying to get tiles to line up on three wonky walls with the sink and the window molding was just…not going to happen. With everything painted, caulked, and grouted, though…well, you know what I’m going to say already. It’s going to be totally fine. Nice, even. I promise!

This post is in partnership with Ace Hardware.

Back to Top