Oh, did you think this was a reveal post? A real meat-n-potatoes before and after? You’re so CUTE! It’s not done. Don’t get crazy.
It’s been about nine months since we talked about my kitchen and pantry, though—the two rooms at the back of the house that have undergone the most extensive changes of any part of the house. I’d recommend giving that last post a read-through if you want to get a sense of the whole sequence of events! Normally 9 months would be an adequate amount of time to comfortably complete a kitchen renovation, not to mention the two years that preceded it, but…well, not in this house! This is a huge project that has required changes to every single wall—interior and exterior—which of course took serious time on its own and occured in the background of a bunch of other huge projects that also take a lot of time and attention.
It’s also an EXPENSIVE project, as kitchens tend to be—a lot more expensive than you might expect given the fact that I’m doing the vast majority of the work myself and avoiding a lot of huge expenses that normal kitchen renovations might have—a tiled floor, for instance, or all new appliances or custom cabinets. I still EASILY managed to budget out $25,000—almost entirely materials—before I freaked out and lit my computer on fire. That’s serious money that I do not have! If you’re really interested we can get into how that breaks down, but that would entail me actually looking at the Excel document that spit out that number which…eh, I’d rather not.
Major progress was made in 2018, so let’s discuss! Less than a year ago I was still cooking on a hot plate in the dining room and running to the upstairs bathroom whenever I needed the luxury of running water, and I had my dishwasher draining into a bucket, sooooo. Things have improved immensely, slow as it may be!
This is the south wall, which is the side of the house I just finished up working on this fall, sporting its new windows! For reference, more or less in that space between the two new windows, there used to be a large doorway with a transom window leading out into the now-demolished, then-deteriorating solarium. Around the middle of the window on the right, there was a wall that separated the kitchen from what was originally a back staircase (removed in the 1930s), which had been turned into two closets, which I made into one long skinny closet that housed my old pantry.
JUST A FEW SMALL ALTERATIONS. NO BIGGIE.
I think last time we saw my old laundry space, it was looking something like this. Now that I have a new second floor laundry space, I no longer mourn the loss of this one, but…man. Gutting that (perfectly nice, totally functional, already renovated) room felt so horrible at the time. I felt confident in my plan but I was still worried I’d regret it, and I really can’t even explain how chaotic the house felt at the time. So purposefully creating EVEN MORE CHAOS was just all around extremely unappealing, but it had to happen for everything to proceed. Sometimes you make a big mess.
I think I can comfortably say I’ve seen the upper asscrack of everyone I’ve ever worked on a renovation with. That doesn’t mean you get to. It’s earned, not given.
With the old laundry room all gutted out, as well as the bathroom on the other side, and the new window/exterior door placements all squared away, it was time to take care of the last of the framing work! It never ends! One of the things I’d like to spend a little time doing is mocking up the original layout of these spaces, from what I’ve been able to tell during renovation. It’s amazing how many times the back of the house appears to have changed to suit different periods and needs as the house moved from having servants to being divided into apartments to (maybe?) being restored to a single family before being divided again.
So with this iteration, I’m stealing the space that the first floor bathtub used to occupy (yes, otherwise known as the corpse tub), turning that bathroom into a half-bath, and using the stolen space for the fridge and pantry space. Haunted fridge! I also had that waste line from the upstairs bathroom re-routed to fit between the wall that divides the new half-bath from the pantry. It’s so nice not having to box it in!
Finally. The entrance to the new pantry space got moved over a few feet from where it was and enlarged. I wanted a nice flow between the spaces but definitely am not going for “open concept,” so essentially I replicated the doorway that used to be on the other side of the room that led to the old solarium. So it’s wide and tall and will have a transom window and it’s all fake but I think will easily pass as original. Except for the part where I tell everyone.
And JUST WHEN YOU THINK you’re done, you remember that you still have to frame in the ceilings in the pantry and half-bath. Easy enough, but just like…really?! MORE?! Then I laid new 3/4″ plywood subfloors right on top of the existing floors—the kitchen is actually built a bit lower than the rest of the house, so this works out because now all the floors should be level with each other, and it meant a lot less demo! I’m not usually a “slap another layer on” type of renovator, but in this case it made sense.
Then electric and plumbing went in, which of course was a whole rigamarole too. New sink location. New stove location. New everything locations. Unreliable plumbers. Same shit.
I’m not not a little proud of my garbage little sink stand I made to fit a stainless steel sink that came out of a project a few years ago. Hey, it’s a sink!! IN THE KITCHEN! It only took a mere 19 months from the removal of the other sink! Right on schedule; just fabulous.
At this point it was April, and I knew it was going to be a supremely busy spring/summer, between freelance work and the projects at my house I really needed to prioritize during the warm weather, like resolving a ton of exterior work. At some point I made peace with the realization that there was no way in hell this kitchen was getting done for another year or more. And really? That’s fine. Totally fine. I can work with undone as long as it functions reasonably OK, and it would give me ample time to use the space, really settle on finishes and things, and address any possible errors in judgment up to this point before all the finishing work is done and it becomes a massive pain to change anything.
I’m fickle. In case that was not painfully clear.
I began putting up walls—but probably not the walls you were expecting! More plywood! I did this for a few reasons:
- I had a lot of scrap around, so I could do part of the room that way. Free is good! I could also manage the pieces myself.
- I know, kind of, that I want some treatment around the lower part of the room, and at the time thought vertical beadboard. Since then I have tossed around approximately 7,000 more ideas and it could end up being anything. Rather than installing a ton of blocking or adding furring strips, plywood turns the whole surface into one big nailer, which makes install easy. Added to this, plywood is a very stable material that doesn’t expand and contract like regular lumber, so it helps avoid movement of a finish material like beadboard over time. I picked this up from a restoration friend of mine and I think it’s a good tip!
- It’s modular! If I need to make changes to the electric (which—surprise!—I do need a few changes), it’s easy to take the ply down to add outlets or re-set boxes at a desired height and depth, etc. It’ll also be easy to swap with drywall if I end up tiling.
At long, long last, it was finally time to say goodbye to the exposed ceiling joists, that ugly insulation, the dust-shedding backside of the plaster dining room wall…I have no words. It was the best.
I gladly hired Edwin and Edgar to hang, tape, and skim the drywall. I’m glad I did. In a few days it was done, and that’s a beautiful thing. I used Purple XP drywall in a 5/8″ thickness, which is mold and mildew resistant and has a high-density gypsum core, making it a lot more substantial than your regular 1/2″ lightweight drywall. I like a solid wall.
Bear in mind that I have not had walls or a ceiling since this kitchen renovation started so many moons ago, and open walls/ceilings swallow up a lot of natural light. I’d gotten used to the kitchen feeling…not dark, I guess, but not what I had in mind when I tore off two additions, a fire escape, installed four large new windows and a big doorway into another room with another window and a half-lite door. YA KNOW?!
AND THEN I REMEMBERED WHAT THE WHOLE IDEA HAS BEEN ALL ALONG, which is a big (well, not too big) bright beautiful kitchen! IT’S ALL HAPPENING. Walls. Ceilings. Both such nice things to have. FYI.
Now it is the end of April. Which means it’s time for outside work to commence. Which means it’s time to wrap this shit up for at least the next 6 months or so. I gave myself a single weekend to make it happen.
Watch carefully. I was like a madman.
First, I cleaned off the skim-coated walls and ceiling of compound dust and hit them with one single thin coat of primer. This seals in any dust and makes the walls a little wipeable. Parts of the walls will need more compound and/or caulk as I get around to things like installing moldings, so there didn’t seem to be a lot of sense in really painting. Just a little painting.
Then I pulled a gallon I’d labeled “Frankengrey” out of the basement and hit the plywood walls with it. I ran out of paint so I didn’t do the pantry, just the kitchen. I was SUPREMELY lazy with this paint job and a little pleased with myself for it not even being the worst-looking thing ever. Like literally I just turned my roller sideways and ran it along the top of the plywood and I don’t care at all that it’s not a perfect line or anything. It’s fine. It’s all fine! Tape is for squares.
AND THEN. THE PIÃˆCE DE RÃ‰SISTANCE. I pulled all my half-empty little cans of dark wood stain out, threw them in a bucket, mixed in some mineral spirits, and stained that damn plywood subfloor. Because IDGAFFFFFFFFF.
Then I sealed it with a gallon of Bona Traffic HD that I found at the Habitat for Humanity ReStore for about 94% off retail cost. I don’t want to live with an unsealed plywood floor, especially in a kitchen, but if I can mop it? SURE WHY NOT.
This is also a good opportunity to try out having dark wood floors! An admission, friends: I’ve lived in my house for almost 6 years and haven’t refinished the floors (which desperately need it) but, worse, I don’t even know what I want to do with them. The hardwood flooring is a later addition so nothing is really “correct”…it’s more a matter of what will look good? I’ve definitely seen very dark floors look great in houses of this vintage—I feel like it helps them sort of fade into the background so things like rugs and furniture can shine.
But. I think. I’ve decided that. I DON’T LIKE THESE DARK FLOORS. They’re…well…dark, for starters. And they seem to show everything. Not nearly the way my white painted floor in my little office used to, but enough that they don’t stay looking clean for more than a few hours after mopping. With two dogs going in and out of the backyard a hundred times a day, I just don’t think the very dark floor lifestyle is a match for me.
So. That’s been informative.
Do you like my 1/4″ plywood window casings?! Thank you I worked very hard on them.
I moved in what’s left of my old kitchen cabinets and topped them with an 8′ piece of butcherblock from Lowe’s, and placed my life-saving induction burners where the range will eventually materialize. I found a little antique work table and stuck that in there as an island, too.
I threw down this kinda hideous, kinda great rug just to brighten her up a little, some furniture and shelving and an art and BADABOOM, GODDAMN IT, IT’S A KITCHEN. I mean I’m not congratulating myself on it being gorgeous but HEY, it doesn’t look like a construction site totally either?! That’s progress.
I’m not sure I can adequately express how nice it was to finally get the fridge and this dresser out of the dining room! The dresser has been very helpful as extra kitchen storage while I’m working with so few cabinets. I opted to just plywood everything in this room for the same reasons as the lower half of the kitchen—except this room is going to be ALL cabinetry and woodwork.
Speaking of—this may sound weird, but I’m actually going to prioritize the pantry over finishing the kitchen. The reason being in part that it’s smaller and more achievable, and part that it’s practically going to be a very small kitchen itself (fridge, sink, and those induction hot plates are portable!), and therefore can do kitchen things during the eventual period that I’m doing finishing work in the kitchen. Check back in 2031.
Also. I have new plans. I’m excited about them. Ready. Let’s go.
Here’s what I had last time we went over this goddamn thing:
But I’ve had some thoughts since then. They look like this:
OK so a few changes have taken place. The concept has changed.
Before, I was thinking the pantry would be finished off the same way as the kitchen. This house was built circa 1865, so a Victorian-style kitchen doesn’t really feel right, as beautiful as they are—I think the vibe has to be more primitive and understated.
But the pantry is an addition to the kitchen, not an original part of it. So. New vibes are:
Maybe this was a little porch (it wasn’t, unless it was? TBH, no idea).
That was enclosed during Victorian times, because they did that kind of thing sometimes (it wasn’t…but was it?).
And so it feels like a little enclosed porch, fitted in Victorian-style built-ins to maximize storage, beadboard ceiling, nice moldings, beautiful hardware; it’s real pretty. Trust me.
Then. Instead of the wood floor, you do a REALLY GOOD tile, because it’s 40 square feet and you’ve worked your ass off and you should just get the nice tile because the world could end tomorrow and you don’t want to die knowing you should have just gone for it with the nice-ass tile.
Think about it.
Then you further justify the nice tile by reminding yourself that you “budgeted” (the budget you can in no way afford) for radiant heat flooring but have since decided against it, so that should really free up some money (that you’ve never had to begin with) to buy the super nice tile.
It all makes so much sense. Almost too much sense, honestly.
So then. Instead of the tiny sink that was kind of hard to source anyway. Why not. Just have a stone sink custom made for your very special specs and then also have a countertop from the same material made for it.
Think about it. Why not.
Here’s potentially why not: you’ve really put all your eggs in the basket of one vendor to do the fabrication at a very reasonable price, and now that vendor has repeatedly violated your trust and probably/definitely you should not attempt more business with them but you really fucking want that $250 custom sink?
Maybe it was too good to be true. But like, my life hinges on it. I’ve committed to it.
Because I already built the cabinets!
*fade to black*
Next time, on Manhattan Nest.