The State of Things

Seems like not too long ago that I had a (semi) functional kitchen. And then we decided to start tearing it up. It began with two cabinet doors:

The Beginning of the End

Shortly after the above picture was taken, we pulled out the upper cabinets:

Ahhh, That's Better!

Remember that deeee-lish wallpaper I was talking about in my last kitchen post? Well, there was a whole bunch of it hiding behind one of the uppers. It just screams ELEGANT, doesn't it?

The Height of Kitchen Fashion - circa 1962 (or so)

After that, we moved on to the counter tops and base cabinets. I pulled off all the laminate that had been used in the "refacing" job done about twenty-plus years ago. You can't tell in this picture, but the rails for the drawers on the right were held up with DUCT TAPE.

Why did I leave my rug there?

Pulling out the base cabinets revealed more of the house o' horrors plumbing we've encountered in other rooms. I think the guy who did the original work in this house was either a) completely incompetent, b) using large quantities of crystal meth, or c) both.

Mold, corroded pipe, and hey look! A can of window cleaner!

After the initial shock wore off, Charlie and I dug in and started the serious demolition. We ripped out all the old drywall and plaster, pulled about a billion nails and screws, and scraped five, count 'em, FIVE layers of flooring off the concrete. Where does that leave us? Right about here:

Gutted

That big white rectangle you see behind the studs of the far wall is actually the rear of the huge metal medicine cabinet in our downstairs bathroom. We pulled one out of the upstairs bathroom, and it weighs about nine billion pounds. It also features its own huge and totally unflattering fluorescent light fixture. But hey, that's another post.

My stove is in my dining room, where we've set up an interim kitchen. It's a decent setup, but I don't think I could deal with it for more than a month or so. (I'm thinking of my mom's kitchen remodel, which took about six months.)

Charlie's moved the door to the utility room; well, he's framed it, anyway. And the electricians (great guys, 'tho one of them looks about 12 and bears a striking resemblance to Jesse Pinkman from "Breaking Bad") are here today finishing up all the rewiring and installation of new outlets and recessed lights. I can't believe I'll have more than one outlet to use! And that I won't have to fumble around in the dark to find the switch for my one overhead light! Squeeeeeeee!

We're making serious progress, is what I'm saying. It's a little unnerving - I keep waiting for something to go really, really wrong. Like, you know, the guys go to run wire and find something disgusting and Edgar Allen Poe-ish plastered into the ceiling.