A Personal Update

So…you might have noticed my posting has been a little light around these parts lately. A lot’s been going on. A few friends have come to visit, I’ve been hard at work on a new freelance project, still wrestling with the cottage, projects at my own house—I guess none of that’s so out of the ordinary. What is out of the ordinary? A couple months ago, Max and I decided to break up. And, frankly, it’s been hard on many levels. Personally, of course, but continuing to post here with this at the forefront of my mind has felt…weird. So I took a little time to myself to get my head right, regroup, and recharge. I hope that’s understandable.

I think and hope that it’s fair to say this decision did not come at all lightly, but was about as mutual as such a decision can be. For those of you who are new here, this might not matter to you at all, but for those of you who have been around for a while, you probably have a sense that this is sort of a big deal in my life. Max and I were together for over four years. We had a good ride. Nay, a great ride. In that time, we moved in together in the Brooklyn apartment, we supported each other through several jobs, we adopted two dogs, we travelled, we got engaged, we bought a house. Together, we experienced innumerable “firsts” for both of us, and saw each other through countless fun times, difficult times, and everything in between. I wouldn’t trade those years for the world, and I mean that sincerely.

Not everything is meant to last forever. It’s strange. I don’t think of our relationship as failing—not at all. If you’ll forgive me the cheesy extended analogy, I think of it kind of like a rollercoaster ride. You get on, there’s a steep ascent, and then it all comes rushing at you—the quick turns, the loop de loops, the steep climbs and dramatic falls and all that speed, and then it slows and eventually, it stops. There’s that moment in the middle there where you feel like you could stay on the ride forever—where you might wish it would never end—but it does, and you do the right thing. You unbuckle yourself, get up, and move on. The ride didn’t fail because it stopped. It just ran its course.

You might be able to tell that I have no idea how to do this. Having to do this at all is, admittedly, a little odd: making so public what feels like an intensely personal and intimate matter. I don’t honestly know how our relationship came across from the perspective of a stranger reading this blog (or following our instagrams or twitter accounts or whatever…), but I can assure you that it was good. Max is a wonderful person—possibly the kindest I’ve ever known, smart, funny, charming, handsome, intensely sweet, extraordinarily talented, all of it. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. In so many ways, I feel like we grew up together. Challenged each other, taught each other, made each other better people. I’ll forever be grateful and honored to have had that. Moving on from being a couple hasn’t been particularly easy, but it hasn’t been bad, either. We care deeply for each other. We’re there for each other. The nature and definition of our relationship has changed, absolutely, but we’re on great terms. We’re approaching this in more or less the same way we tried to approach our relationship: with caring, compassion, mutual respect, and love. There’s no dramatic story behind all of this, no sides to be taken by any of our friends—none of that. It’s all OK.

If you’re one of those people who does care about this post and has made it this far, I’m hoping I can anticipate some questions you might have.

This blog isn’t really going to change. Max is taking over the Brooklyn apartment as his full-time residence, and I’m now a full-time Kingston-ite. At the risk of crossing too many personal lines, the house is more or less mine, and I’m staying in it, which I’m happy to do. It became apparent to me pretty early on after buying the house that I had no real desire to live in NYC any longer—I really feel like I’ve found my home here in Kingston, and in this house, and it’s still my great pleasure to do my best to restore it and really make a life here. I love being a part of this community and while leaving the Brooklyn apartment behind me isn’t easy, I’ll admit that it feels kind of nice to take that responsibility off my plate. It was my home for two solid years (and my kind-of home for two more after buying the house), and I’m happy that it’ll continue to have such a wonderful person living in it. It’s a special place.

The dogs are staying with me. This is a tough one to talk about, because it’s no secret that we adopted both of them together and we both love them so, so much. I think what it comes down to is trying to figure out what’s best for them, and they can have a better life here. They’re more at ease in Kingston and in the house, they have a yard to run around in—it’s just for the best. Max can of course see them whenever he wants, and there’s no debate about that. They’re still his, too, even though we’re not together. We’re figuring it out.

I’m not sure what more there is to say. I’m disabling comments on this post for what I hope are understandable and obvious reasons—this is just one of those things that I don’t really feel compelled to field a lot of input on. If you’re feeling compelled to comment, trust me, I appreciate it.

I hope you’re having a great weekend—I’ll be busy hauling demo debris to the dump, and back on Monday to kick off a new exciting project that’s been in the works. Until then, thank you for reading and I’ll see you very soon.




The Pantry is Done!


Growing up, I had a few very particular habits and hobbies, most of which entailed spending a lot of time by myself. While my siblings were out playing sports, or watching sports, or everyone was upstairs watching ESPN, or whatever else it was that my heterosexual family did, I could typically be found sitting in a room in our basement, watching hours and hours of HGTV and working on a collection of truly hideous but impressively elaborate scrapbooks. Sometimes I’d move on and build a scaled model of some house I’d dreamt up, or sketch the elevations of a renovation plan I had for one of the few remaining cute 50s ramblers that still dotted my mostly new-construction street (torn down now, sadly, because my plan was pretty slick). Every now and then, my idea of a good time was to make myself insane by organizing the garage or the basement or the laundry room or my mother’s office—really, I don’t think any space in our house escaped my clutches. Our label-maker was one of my closest confidants, and The Container Store was far and away my favorite retail conglomerate on earth. It was a sick, perverse kind of pleasure: the messier a space was, the more exciting the process of organizing it became. The act of impressing order onto the chaos made me feel so…alive. As you can tell, I’ve really made great strides toward personal change in the intervening years.

There was one space, though, that was consistently the biggest thorn in my side and light of my life, year after year. The pantry. The room was maybe somewhere around 5×8, lined with deep shelves and consistently—and, to me at least, alarmingly—unkempt. It wasn’t that it was dirty or even all that cluttered to the naked eye, but once you started really poking around, it didn’t take long to pick up on some major organizational issues. Expired boxes of cereal and cans of beans lurked behind fresh ones, and there were too few containers to wrangle the smaller or more irregular shaped items, which tended to get stuffed wherever they’d fit. Unopened boxes of last year’s Passover matzah, duplicate and triplicate jars of spices, some of them old enough that the labels had been redesigned, snacks that my siblings and I had courted for brief periods (Go-Gurt) before moving on for greener pastures (Danimals Drinkable Yogurt)—it was paradise. I’d typically spread the fun out over a few days, at which point I’d stage a big reveal and make all the members of my family admire it while explaining slowly and clearly where everything now belonged.

Like I said. Totally different person now.

I guess my point here is that I feel like my life experience has really prepared me to make a pantry of my own. I’ve seen time and again how pantries start out with the best intentions and descend into total chaos, and hopefully learned enough to avoid letting that happen to me.


Anyway, taking a little trip back in time…here’s about where we started. The pantry space takes up the footprint of an old stairwell (removed circa 1930), and prior to my work on it was divided into two closets. Busting out the wall that divided the closets and removing the (non-original) closet and doorway from the dining room was definitely the right choice, but also left behind a really strange space to work with. The pantry is 8 feet deep and only about 32″ wide, meaning that actual storage options are kind of limited since I’m basically building a pantry in a narrow hallway. It also needed mostly new walls, a refinished floor, electrical (lighting and outlets), paint, and of course shelving and stuff! Sometimes the smallest spaces are just as complicated as the big ones.


And here we go! It’s a pantry! Finally! YAY.

I know it’s really annoying when bloggers point this shit out, but some of the photos in this post were taken a few weeks ago and some were taken today (including the one above), and I’m way too lazy to style a pantry. Which is why I didn’t unwrap the plastic from my paper towel rolls. I promise Bounty isn’t paying me. They really are the quicker picker-upper, though, you know? My late-in-life discovery of washable microfiber cloths has drastically cut down on my paper towel usage, by the way, but I’m not ready to cut them out of my life entirely at this juncture.

Semi-related: since when/why is every roll individually wrapped inside the bulk-wrapped pack of 12 rolls or whatever? It’s like they’re determined to make up for being bad for the environment by being worse for the environment. Human beings are screwed.

The point is, due to what I’m now referring to as my “blogging hiatus” over the past couple of weeks (oooooops), I’ve now had a nice amount of time to actually use this space and can happily report that it WORKS. At least for me. I really don’t put any hard work or effort into keeping it clean and orderly because I think it’s pretty effectively designed to stay clean and orderly! I kind of dragged my feet about working on this space for a long time but it really has made an enormous difference to the kitchen and the way I cook and grocery shop and all of that. I’m all about my pantry.

The dimensions of the space were a major challenge, but turned out to be a great opportunity. I think probably the most common issue with pantries is that the shelves are just too deep, so things get lost and you can’t see what you actually have. Then you end up re-buying things you already have, or letting things expire, or you’re always digging for stuff…I’m totally convinced that shallow shelves are vastly superior, and luckily that’s about all this room can accommodate anyway.

Having said that, some deeper storage is definitely important as well! Most pantry items (at least the ones that I buy?) seem to be 6″ in depth or smaller, but sometimes you need a few boxes of cereal or crackers or bags of chips or whatever and so having some good deep shelves is important, too. In this space, the deeper shelving could really only go at the back…so I guess we’ll start there?


Part of the fun of this space was trying to spend as little money as possible while still making it cute and functional, which involved a lot of raiding of my scrap wood piles! I made all of the shelving out of the fir 2 x 12 framing lumber that I used for the old kitchen countertops (stained and poly’d this time around), and lots of scraps of 1-by lumber for the cleats that the deeper shelves are supported by. I decided to use wood cleats instead of large brackets just to save some money (brackets add up, even when they’re cheap!), but I’m really happy with how they turned out!


Hanging cleats for shelving is one of those things that seems sort of complicated but really isn’t. I always just figure out my shelf spacing and mark where the TOP of the cleat should sit (1 x 2 lumber works great). Then I use my mark and a level to draw pencil lines around where the cleat will go. After cutting my 1 x 2 pieces to size, I line them up with my markings and face-nail them into place with 2″ finishing nails, and then I go back in and drive some longer screws (2.5 or 3″ drywalls screws work nicely) into studs. Easy!

If I’m doing multiple shelves, I like to pre-mark all the cleat locations and then pre-cut all my pieces of wood so I can put it all up faster. Getting all these little pieces up took maybe an hour or so from start to finish.

The longest part of the process is the patching/caulking/painting, which I think just makes everything feel more finished and is worthwhile, even though it’s no fun and can feel a little overly-anal while you’re doing it. I’m used to that feeling, though. I like to just paint the cleats with whatever wall paint I’m using so they blend in. Exciting stuff.


This room is super wonky so you’re just going to have to trust me that this is all level, even though it looks nuts.


Lest you think I’m better at all of this than I am, this is my kitchen during the process! As much as I don’t love everything about this kitchen, I love that I can use and abuse it a little and it bounces back just fine. Eventually I’d like to set up a nice little shop space in the basement or garage, but for now I tend to just destroy whatever space is closest to where I’m working and deal with it later.

The deeper shelving is really comprised of two pieces of 2-by lumber, which saved me from making any complicated cuts around that plumbing chase in the corner. One piece comes out to the depth of the front of the chase (about 5.5″) and the next piece extends out 10.5″ for an overall depth of 16″. The only real thought that went into the spacing and depth was that I wanted to be able to fit the microwave back there. I don’t like having that thing taking up counter space in the kitchen, but I don’t know what I’d do without a microwave! I’m always impressed by/fearful of people who don’t have them. This one was generously donated by my pal, Anna, who consequently doesn’t have one anymore so I assume she’s starving to death whenever I’m nuking leftover Chinese food.


Before I installed the front piece of those shelves in the back, I marked and installed my shallow shelving brackets using the level of the cleats as my guide. I wanted the shelves to appear kind of continuous to cut down on any visual/physical clutter. These brackets came from Lowe’s for about $5 a pop. Using 2-by lumber meant that I could space them wider than I typically would (therefore using fewer of them), so I only needed 10 to get the job done. These brackets are nice because they can be hung two ways, so you have the option of a 6.5″-ish deep shelf or 12″-ish deep shelf depending on how you hang them.

By the way, I saved staining/poly-ing the fronts and tops of the shelving until after everything was installed, which was just easier than trying to get the stain to look good while everything was laying on sawhorses in the basement. That’s why the front of the shelves look all crappy in these pictures. I just ran my mouse sander over the fronts, did a quick staining job, and three coats of water-based poly on everything. Now the shelves look uniform and are super clean-able when they eventually start to gather dust, which happens quickly around these parts because I live in a construction zone. Not sure if you heard.


It’s hard to tell from the picture, but I installed some mending strips I had lying around on the underside where the deep shelves transition to the shallow ones. This just helped bring everything to the same level. I hit the strips with a couple coats of black spray paint before putting them up just to keep them inconspicuous and matching the black brackets.


That was really about it! Once the shelves were dry, it was time to install the outlets, touch up whatever paint on the walls I’d screwed up, and start loading in food!

Yes, by the way, I hate myself for the extreme decanting situation up in here, but I also LOVE IT. I love decanting things. I have no idea why. I think it’s a fetish. In any case, it makes me feel like I’m doing something important and worthwhile even though all I’m doing is moving things from one container into a different container. These jars are the KORKEN jars from IKEA, which are great! I like the classic shape and the rubber seal makes them effectively airtight. I’ve basically been buying a few of them every time I’ve been to IKEA in the past two years in preparation for this moment, so they never felt like a big expense even though I guess I’ve probably sunk a lot of money into having so many stupid glass jars at this point. Sometimes you just need to trick yourself that way.


There was some pretty extreme disagreement between Max and I on how the jars should be labeled. I figured a regular waterproof label would suffice, but he thought it was likely that the jars wouldn’t always be holding the same thing and wanted something more easily removable. Hence, these weird white chalk markers that go on sort of wet, become sort of dry, and look so super twee when combined with cute handwriting!  I feel like such a Pinterest garbage blogger person. I’m totally incapable of writing with the pens on these jars in a way that looks at all nice or legible (I think it’s the curved surface combined with being a lefty?), so I’ll forever be reliant on Max for labeling the dry goods.

It’s so dumb and I love it so much. SUE ME.

The shallow shelves are great, though, because I can really see everything when I go to make a shopping list or, more commonly, wait until I’m starving to death and crawl into the pantry in search of some semblance of ingredients that could be potentially combined to create a meal. Back when I had all of this stuff in the deeper kitchen cabinets, this tended to involve, like, a can of anchovies, a jar of salsa, and mayonnaise, but now I can easily locate and cook some lentils to add to my desperation-recipes! So my life and nutrition has really improved by leaps and bounds.


So far, the deeper shelves at the back are possibly being under-utilized. If I go on some kind of cereal diet (I hear it’s going to be the new juice cleanse in 2016), I can always relocate the cookbooks and gain a couple more shelves? I don’t know. As long as the microwave fits. Eyes on the prize. The vintage bowls hold onions and garlic and potatoes and stuff.


One of my very favorite things in the pantry is the inside of the door! I’m obsessed with these things. I got them at The Container Store. It’s all Elfa brand (which is on sale right now!) and the baskets hang off of one central track, which is screwed into the door (you can also hang it from the top of the door with an additional piece of hardware, but I don’t know why you’d do that, really…this looks much cleaner to me). They come in a few difference widths and depths, so I put the deeper ones on the bottom for a couple frequently-used cleaning supplies, various cooking oils and stuff, and then the top ones are all for spices! For some reason it’s REALLY hard to find a decent wall-mounted spice solution and this has been working out super well. I hate having spices in a cabinet because I always end up with like 3 bottles of thyme and no crushed red pepper. Crushed red pepper comprises like 40% of my diet, so you understand the issue.

Obviously my plan is to start buying all the same brand of spices (the ones from our local grocery store chain, Adams, seem to fit particularly well) to achieve maximum consistency and creepiness. I want people to fear me when they walk into my pantry, and this just isn’t cutting it…yet. Give me a year or two and it’ll look about as approachable as a museum.


My other favorite thing? THAT DRAWER. After painting it, I just added a cheap brass sash lift to the front that I had for some reason. I feel like it’s pretty classic looking and doesn’t draw a ton of attention. It turned out a lot better and less bizarre-looking than I was expecting. Success!


The impetus for building this thing was mostly to hide the awkward plumbing chase by building out a falsely-wide front, but the drawer itself has turned out to be SUPER handy and functional. It’s really large and fits the tallest spray bottles I have and various other cleaning supplies that I don’t really want to look at but use frequently. It’s nice to have some enclosed storage in here! I ended up painting the interior of the cabinet, too, to protect the wood from spills and moisture and keep it easily cleanable.


I think that’s about it! Especially considering where this space came from, I’m really really pleased with how this turned out and how it functions. It’s made me more inclined to cook (and more efficient at it, too), not to mention freeing up some space in the kitchen and allowing me to go on a huge reorganization binge in there, too. I just can’t help myself.

Want to look back on the seemingly never-ending pantry project? I don’t because PTSD, but here’s a handy round-up for your procrastination pleasure if you’re so inclined…


Sink for the Cottage Half Bath!

OOF. I’ve been working on several different posts and a million other things and I can’t seem to get anything done. I’m all over the place. So…hi, folks! Long time no see. Missed ya.


The big news today? Not that big. I bought another old sink. My life is basically non-stop action and excitement with a heaping scoop of filth thrown in for fun.

I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled for a cute cast iron sink to go down in the half-bath on the first floor of the cottage, and this one fit the bill! It’s probably from the 40s or early 50s, super heavy, and—despite the grime and filth, in excellent shape! I love the simple lines (which to me don’t really scream any particular era—just simple and classic), and the flat section at the top where it’ll meet the wall seems like a perfect spot for a bottle of hand soap and a cup for toothbrushes or whatever. It’s a pretty small bathroom, so I like that this particular sink has that little storage opportunity built-in. I’ll still put in some kind of cabinet or shelving or a medicine cabinet or something, but it’s a start!


The best part? BOOM. $25 dollars. This entire project has definitely come with some unexpected costs, so saving money here and there on stuff like this really helps keep the budget more in check.


There’s a few things to think about when buying vintage enameled cast iron fixtures, and the first is really to inspect the condition of the enamel. I don’t mind a little etching and minor staining (which can often be improved with non-abrasive cleaners or plain old white vinegar), but major chips, cracks, or areas of damage—especially where water will hit—will rust and degenerate over time.

Damaged enamel doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not a good buy, especially if the shape is super unique or something, but all of the repair solutions that I know about will never really measure up to an original enameled coating. There are epoxy-type patching compounds you can buy at most home improvement stores, which you basically spread on, let dry, and sand smooth, but the finish is never going to look seamless or perfect—it’ll just insulate the cast iron from further rusting. You can also get stuff like this reglazed professionally (typically they come to you, mask everything off, and spray a new coating on the fixtures), which looks nice at first but isn’t all that durable—you generally have to have it redone about once a decade or so, and it scratches and chips fairly easily in the meantime. The most durable solution I know of is sandblasting and powder-coating. In this process, the enamel finish is blasted off until the cast iron is bare, and then the entire thing can be powder-coated, which is essentially a very tough, durable paint treatment that can be done in a million different colors. It also tends to be pretty affordable, but prices vary. That’s the plan for the downstairs bathtub in my house, since it’s in super solid shape overall but the enamel has seen much better days, and I was quoted $300 to have the work done…which is much less than I’d spend on a brand new tub! This is the same process that my pal Anna had done on her bathroom fixtures, a radiator, and some exterior metal work, and all of them have held up beautifully!

I don’t know of a way to actually have something completely re-enameled (anyone?), though, so the best thing is really to try to find fixtures that don’t need this kind of repair work in the first place. It also keeps costs down, duh-sies. This sink is in great shape, so a little scrubbing should take care of it!


The second thing to think about is the metal cleat that the sink hangs off of. If you’re installing one of these bad boys, bear in mind that they are HEAVY mo-fos and you may have to open your wall and install some wood blocking for the cleat to screw into. Anyway, often vintage sinks get separated from their original cleat. I bought this sink from the Historic Albany Foundation, which is a fun salvage place with good stuff at great prices, and luckily for me they had a big bin of these cleats to peruse, so it was just a matter of finding one that fit! If your sink is still in production (like the Kohler sink I bought a while ago), you may be able to just order the cleat directly from the manufacturer, and if you’re really in a bind, lots of people get them custom-made by a metal shop for a fairly nominal cost. Anyway, there are options! If you love the sink, don’t fret if it doesn’t have the cleat.

By the way, the nice man at the salvage place told me that often you’re better off with a steel cleat than a cast iron one. Cast iron becomes more brittle over time, so sometimes the cleats are cracked or broken either prior to or during installation. I know that rusty little thing looks like bad news, but it’s very solid and I was assured should hold everything just fine.


Lastly, the taps! As much as I don’t really mind double taps on old sinks, especially for a half-bath, I gotta say I do prefer a single faucet. Often cast iron sinks that are originally made with double taps can be elegantly converted (Anna did this in her bathroom, too), but the cost of the plumbing work and the faucet/knobs/escutcheons definitely adds a few hundred dollars to the price. So potentially your cheap $25 sink really becomes a $300-$400 sink, which is still fine, but maybe not the kind of deal you thought it was.

ANYWAY, I know this thing looks REALLY gross, but I’m guessing some Barkeeper’s Friend and some TLC will clean it up. Maybe a few new little parts, too, but hopefully that won’t be a big deal. The faceted shape of that little faucet is so cute, though, right? I like it.

I’m so glad to report that—I THINK HOPE AND PRAY—winter is pretty much done. There’s still snow on the ground, but it’s melting, and hopefully it won’t be too long before I can really get back to work on the cottage. The lack of heat (or a gas line!) really kind of messed everything up for a few months, but now that we’re more or less out of the danger zone of pipes freezing and stuff, I’m excited to get back in there! Now that things have stalled and dragged out for so long, it’s going to be super exciting to start making real progress again and whipping this place into shape!

Weekend Thrifty Finds!

It’s been a while since we did a good old “look, here’s some crap I bought!” post, hasn’t it? It’s a crying shame.

Well. In case you started reading this blog less than 10 minutes ago and don’t know what I’m all about, first of all—welcome. Second of all, you should know I like to shop. I like to shop but I don’t like to spend a lot of money, so at some point in my life I really embraced that the way to fulfill both of these goals was to shop for secondhand stuff. eBay, Craigslist, consignment shops, weird barns full of antiques, thrift stores, the curb on trash night, auctions, salvage shops…I love them all equally and for different reasons. I’m an equal-opportunity crap collector. Admittedly a part of the appeal of doing freelance design work is that I get to spend more time satisfying these urges, except I get to buy things with other people’s money and for other people’s houses. Even though I end up wanting to keep everything. Life is one big struggle.

I’ve been trying to slow my roll on the thrifty front lately for two reasons:

1. We are running out of space, and it makes me feel like a crazy person. Our basement has extra furniture. The room above our kitchen? Packed. There’s furniture in the garage and furniture in the big, un-renovated living room, and there’s just no way we’re going to use it all—this much is clear. Of course, I maintain that we will use some of it, and therefore we should keep it around until the house is done, at which point I’ll need to find a new excuse to hoard. A client might need it! The cottage might need it for staging! And so on. I’m great at justifying my crap.

2. Buying cheap stuff is only cheap until you buy a lot of it, at which point it becomes…not so cheap. And I’m a little cash-strapped right now between this stupid house and this stupid cottage and being in between freelance gigs the heat bills on our house ain’t cheap and…ya know. Should probably stop buying things that aren’t human food and/or dog food.

BUT SOMETIMES YOU CAN’T HELP IT. SOMETIMES A FRIEND (who you invited) DRIVES YOU TO A PLACE (because you specifically asked him to) AND SHOWS YOU NICE THINGS (which you reasonably guessed would be there in the first place) AND YOU’RE FORCED TO BUY THEM (because otherwise you might feel sad later on that you didn’t).

Ugh. So here’s some shit I bought because the choice was basically between these vintage items and everlasting regret and remorse.


So, this MIRROR. Or maybe I should call it a “mirror”? Lord knows I do not need more mirrors. My main weaknesses in life are old mirrors, old rugs, old lighting, and old chairs. Also, old houses and old dogs. I have a lot of mirrors and I love them all but I’m especially into this one, and at $60 I felt like I owed it to myself (I did not) to take it home and make me so happy (it did). This beige colored parts you’re seeing, by the way, are just the wall behind the glass, where the reflective foil has just completely worn away and disappeared over the years.


My major rules with mirrors are these:

1. There has to be something interesting about the frame. If you only like the shape of the frame, you can always paint it, but I like my frames to have some weird Victorian detailing like the one in the office or an interesting shape like the one over our apartment’s mantel, or just have a great patina of wear like the one hanging out in the kitchen. I love the shape and the tone of the wood on this guy, so it’s a winner.

2. There has to be something good about the glass. New mirror glass, even if it’s in an old frame? Kind of boring, usually not worth it. Extra points for a bevelled edge, but not necessary. My real weakness is when the foil backing that makes the mirror reflective starts to disintegrate over time, leaving what some would consider “damage.” That’s just patina, folks! As long as the glass isn’t shattered, I pretty much feel like the “worse” shape it’s in, the better! This guy ranks pretty highly, to the point that it barely even functions as a mirror anymore. You can get the basic idea of looking at a human figure, but that’s about it. It’s oddly flattering. LOVE.


Also, it tells me what to do at night. Shhhhh.

What else did I buy, you ask? I’ll tell you.


For a while now, I’ve been on the hunt for some old-school glass furniture coasters. You can still buy these new and there’s a nice selection of vintage on eBay, but for some reason I was stubborn and wanted to just stumble upon a bunch of them in a junk shop or something. For what, I’m not even really sure, but I figure they have to come in handy and they just look a billion times more awesome than a shim or a block of wood or whatever the other alternatives are.

Anyway, I bought 8 in total! The shopkeeper wanted $2 a piece for them (I had to hunt them out of a huge bin of old Atlas jar lids), which was fine I guess. 4 of them are smaller and four are bigger—these are the bigger ones pictured above. I probably should have taken another photo after I washed them because they no longer look like a gunky mess, but sometimes I forget stuff.

Man, I really wish I knew about these back when I bought my first credenza that sat on a very sloped floor, or then when I bought my second credenza that also sat on a very sloped floor. These would have been a much easier and more attractive solution to leveling those things out. Oops! Live and learn.


Anyway, we had two radiators that needed to be shimmed under the front two legs. Radiators are really designed to be most effective when sitting level, which isn’t always easy on floors that have some slant to them. Luckily the floors in our house are very level for the most part, but there are areas where they do slant downward away from exterior walls for about 1 foot into the room and then more or less level out. Prior to this discovery, the radiators had been sitting on some unattractive old pieces of scrap wood…but now….

radiatorcoaster1 coaster2

I put the four smaller ones to work under those two radiators, and they look a billion times better! I know that sounds like a bad idea (incredibly heavy objects on top of pieces of glass…), but it seems totally fine and stable and unlikely to cause any problems. So the front of the radiators have been shimmed up a bit, and…I love these things. They’re so pretty! Getting them under the feet was a little challenging, just because the radiator did need to be lifted/rocked a fraction of an inch to get the coasters under the feet. You do have a little play with these pipes, in my experience, though not a ton, so you want to be careful and watch your unions once everything is settled. One of the radiators did develop a small, slow leak at the union after we persuaded the coaster in, but a couple turns on my pipe wrench was all it needed to seal itself up again. No leaks + level radiators + attractive shims = success!


Oh, let’s see, what else…OH RIGHT THIS LIGHT. I love this thing. It definitely bears a strong resemblance to the large Alabax light from Schoolhouse Electric, except this one is vintage and came out of a prison! At least that’s what the sellers told me. Clearly I have a thing for stuff in my house having dark, creepy pasts. And at $85 vs. $139 + shipping for the new Schoolhouse version, the price was decent.

I think this guy is going to hang in the back of the first floor hallway. We had an overheat light added there since it was SO dark back in that area of the house, but I don’t want to make it too conspicuous. The big nice chandelier with the big fancy ceiling medallion will go at the front of the hallway, where the front door is, but I don’t want to make a big production of a light fixture in this spot. Something small and inconspicuous (but pretty, duh) has been what I’ve been on the hunt for, and I think this fits the bill perfectly. I can’t wait to finally paint out that space and get this thing hung up! It’s already been freshly rewired, too, which saves me a little work.


Lastly, I picked up this little assortment of pretty porcelain plumbing escutcheons! You see these a lot in old houses with old plumbing, but they should be easy to incorporate in new plumbing, too. The ones with the little holes are for supply lines, like on a sink, and the bigger one should work for a waste line on a sink.


They need a little work in terms of stripping the paint off and cleaning them up a bit, but I love them! I think I’m going to be greedy and save these two more elaborate ones for the bathroom in my own house, but I’m planning to put the smaller/simpler ones in the bathrooms in Bluestone Cottage. I know I could just as easily go buy some cheap stock chrome ones at Lowe’s or something, but this will just take it up a notch—and at $5 a pop, that seems entirely worth it. It’s the little details that will make these brand-new-but-aspiring-to-look-kind-of-original spaces look appropriately old, so I’m really psyched to see them in place…even if my plumber is going to think I’m crazier than he already does. He loves me for it, and I love him for putting up with me. Bless his beautiful plumber heart.

Building the Pantry Cabinet!


Remember a couple of posts ago when I explained the stupid horrible plumbing chase that had to be built in the back corner of the pantry? To refresh your memory, it holds the supply and return lines for a radiator above the dining room, and had to be built after we removed the old exposed pipes on the dining room side of the wall, only to realize that burying the pipes neatly inside the wall wasn’t technically an option in this case, as we had planned.

Stupid. So, so stupid. I have a couple of regrets about things I’ve done throughout this renovation, and this is a big one, not because I care so much about the pantry but because I envision this as part of the kitchen someday and I’m going to have to find a way to work around it then, too. In any case, instead of the nice simple awkwardly long rectangle I thought the pantry would be, it became an awkwardly long rectangle with an awkward plumbing chase and I became even less inspired to work on it. I do give my main man Edwin props for drywalling it so nicely and finishing all those outside corners so well, but that did not make me like it.

ANYWAY, it took me a long time to figure out quite how to effectively use the space in the pantry. I was inclined to just do open shelving all around and try to ignore the awkwardness of the chase completely, but that seemed sad and lame. I didn’t care all that much about the pantry being particularly nice, but after putting off working on it for so long and knowing how excited Max was about it, I decided to try to up my game and figure out a way to camouflage the stupid chase and eliminate its awkwardness from my life. The little skinny top section doesn’t really bother me, but that big stupid part at the bottom is what I wanted to never see. It sticks out over 2 feet into the room and just fills me with rage when I look at it.

Have I mentioned how I feel about the plumbing chase? No bueno.


So I had this concept. WHAT IF: I just custom-built a little cabinet to fit between the wall on the left and the side of the chase on the right? What if I took it a step further and additionally built a drawer to go inside of the cabinet. And then what if I made the face of the drawer extra-wide so that it would cover the front of the chase, giving the illusion of a cabinet that spans the full width of the space? And then what if I achieved total world domination because my cabinet would be so boss that all who entered my pantry would pledge their allegiance to me as their sovereign overlord?

I found the cabinet idea appealing also because as much as I like open storage for lots of things, I don’t want it for all things. Since the rest of the plan for the space was open shelves, being able to stash ugly stuff away in an enormous, deep drawer sounded fancy and fun.

Problem was, I’ve never built a cabinet and didn’t really have much of an idea how, but I figured I could probably figure it out. I had the tools and I had the idea and I had a lot of the wood already from my scrap pile so it seemed like an interesting and possibly fun challenge that I would definitely not regret at all.

I don’t even recall making that SketchUp rendering, but I’m pretty sure it happened after I built the thing and knew I didn’t take enough pictures of the process to really explain the construction and stuff because I was figuring a lot out on the fly. My big disclaimer here is that I know this isn’t the most amazing way to build a cabinet (nothing is joined in any kind of advanced technical way) but it worked and seems very sturdy, so I guess I did OK.

So. I pretty much designed the frame to be similar in construction to what I can remember of putting together IKEA base cabinets. They’re built kind of like this, I think. I used a scrap piece of 1/4″ ply for the backing instead of the thinner masonite-y stuff you get with an IKEA cabinet. I also added that middle piece on the top because my cabinet was a little deeper and I wanted more support to affix the top to at the end.

The drawer is an inch narrower than the frame to accommodate some stock drawer glides I found at Lowe’s. I think I bought the nicest option, which extends fully and I think held more weight than the other options. They take up a 1/2″ on each side.


If you only look at the pile of pre-cut lumber, it would appear that I am very super organized in my approach to things. In fact I did this because I didn’t realize I was out of wood glue on the night I started with these shenanigans, so I decided to spend my time pre-cutting all my lumber without the satisfaction of assembling anything. This turned out to be kind of nice in the end because assembly went really quickly and I felt like a real badass in my filthy basement.

I cut all of this on my table saw, by the way, which is possibly my favorite tool investment ever. The table saw is really the star of this whole pantry showdown because I used it so much to cut down pieces of scrap wood into smaller dimensions. This would all be possible with a circular saw and a cutting guide, too, but it would take a lot longer and it would probably be harder to get things as precise as you want them with something like this.


Anyway, onto assembly! The quick and easy way of assembling cabinets, I gleaned from flipping through a cabinet-making book in the checkout line at the hardware store, is a combination of wood glue, finish nails, and drywall screws. After applying a line of wood glue, position the other piece of wood, and use a liberal amount of 2″ finish nails to attach them together. Having an automatic nail gun is important for this part—I think it would be almost impossible to do with a hammer and nails just because things would get too out of whack.

Nail guns, by the way? WORTH IT EVERY TIME. It took me way too long to spring for a finish nailer, and I use it constantly. Aside from making you feel like way cool, it’s just so handy for all sorts of things, from trim-work to simple building projects. I have this Porter Cable air compressor  and the older version of this finish nailer, both highly recommended. If you’re doing a big-ish renovation project, I’d recommend going straight for the pneumatic options and ignoring the corded or cordless electronic stuff. I made that mistake and in my experience they don’t work nearly as well and are more prone to breaking/jamming, and the price difference really isn’t that big.

After everything was all nailed up, I drove a drywall screw in about every 6 inches at all the joints. I think I used 1.25″ coarse-threaded screws. Even though they’re called drywall screws, they work well at joining wood together and I prefer using them over wood screws. They’re cheaper, and I find that I tend to end up stripping wood screws but not drywall screws. The metal is harder? I don’t know. I’m not a scientist. I don’t have all the answers.


Anyway, fast-forward a bit and the cabinet and drawer is installed! Like magic. This space is only 32″ wide and the floor slants a little over an inch. It’s weird. There aren’t any real signs of settling and if you look at the joists in the basement, I think it’s actually been like this since it was built. I think the whole kitchen was an early addition and they just made an error in keeping the floor level with the original section of the house when they were building it, which is kind of cute. This was the mid-1800s or so, so I’m going to go ahead and say they had several valid excuses like having lots of dysentery but not lots of advanced modern tools.

Because of this, I opted to mount the cabinet by screwing the sides into the walls, rather than try to rely on the floor and bunch of shims and stuff. I used 3″ screws and went into studs on both sides, and the whole thing is super solid. Then I installed my tracks on the drawer and on the insides of the frame, slid the drawer into place, and that was about it. The glides came with some simple instructions that were helpful—it was all pretty straightforward.


Next, the drawer face! I cut a piece of plywood to the width of the room, leaving about a 1/4″-1/2″ on each side so that the drawer could fully extend without scraping the wavy, imperfect walls on the sides. Because I was working alone, I recall face-nailing it into place in a couple of places (watching my level throughout), then driving several screws through the back of the drawer into the new face to really affix it properly.

The only big thing left to do was trim it out! I opted for 1×3 for the border (scrap pieces ripped down on the ol’ table saw), and simple base cap molding to finish off the inset panel.

This is NOT how you construct standard door/drawer fronts, by the way. Doing it correctly involves more advanced (but, apparently, achievable by DIY-ers) joinery techniques and all manner of wizardry that someday I will definitely teach myself but that day was not this day. I did the same thing for that rolling cart in our laundry room so I figured that if it was good enough for there, it was good enough for here.


Yep, I’m well aware that this looks kind of shitty, but after caulking, patching, sanding, and painting, it really turned out swell. I cannot stress the importance in my life of caulk and Ready Patch enough. I first gave the whole thing a pass with my mouse sander, just to bump down transitions and rough up the previously-painted surfaces. Then, I gave the whole thing a first coat of paint. You could use primer, too, but the idea is to seal the wood and then apply caulk/patching. I’ve done this wrong in the past, but the idea is that you want to seal in the wood before you apply caulk. If you don’t, over time the wood will continue to draw moisture from the caulk and dry it out prematurely, meaning it will have to be scraped out and replaced sooner.

I really like Ready Patch for small wood patching, by the way. It dries harder than other spackles or joint compound, and sands a lot smoother than any wood filler I’ve ever used. It’s still a gypsum-based product, so I wouldn’t use it for large applications or high-traffic areas, but to patch over seams or old nail or screw holes or whatever, it’s perfect.


As on the transom window, I used the same semi-gloss Bedford Grey color for the cabinet face and the inside of the drawer. This is a terrible representation of the color, but this is what you get with iPhone photos taken at night. I think this photo was taken after the first coat of paint but before the patching/caulking, so it all looks a bit more seamless in the finished product. This is also a preview of the top and the shelving that came next, which is pieces of our old countertops! I just ripped the 2×12 boards to the dimensions I needed, sanded, and stained them a bit darker. Then I face-nailed the pieces into place with 2″ finishing nails.


The last piece of the puzzle was installing the baseboard and toe-kick below the cabinet. The baseboard on the right is just standard 1×2 lumber, and the toe-kick had to be cut with my circular saw in order to account for the significant slope in the floor. Later on I finished off the baseboard on the lefthand wall with 1×3, but it isn’t in place yet because I had to do some more repair to the wall before I could install it. In a perfect world I would have taller baseboards in here (anything under a 1×6 tends to look too dinky in an old house), but then the baseboards would block the drawer from moving out, and I wasn’t willing to rebuild the entire cabinet just for the sake of taller baseboards in this glorified closet.

I don’t want to spoil the fun of the the big reveal by showing the totally finished result, so that’s about it! I’m totally happy with how the drawer turned out, and it packs a real punch storage-wise! Even though it’s not nearly as tall as a traditional base cabinet (it’s only about 18″ high), the drawer is deep enough to hold tons of cleaning supplies (Swiffer pads, gallon jugs of white vinegar, etc. etc.) that we needed a place for, but didn’t necessarily want out in the open. And because it sticks out about 27″ into the room, it helps eliminate some of the awkwardness of the overall length of the space, too. So that’s cool.

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