You may be wondering how the kitchen project is coming. I haven't written anything about it for a while, mostly because the people I see on a day to day basis are so goddamned sick of hearing about it that I can't get a word out.
Basically, the thing's done. I'm just waiting on countertops, and then some final plumbing hookups. The guy from Lowe's ("I'm hear to make a template, but I think instead I'll just stare at the tattoo on your chest.") was here yesterday, measuring and checking the cabinets to ensure that we're ready for the eleventy-billion pound load of LG HiMacs counter material. The installers will be back on the 20th to slap it all together, and then famous Dave, our plumber, comes the next day to hook up my sink, disposal, and -- can I get a HALLELUJAH?! -- DISHWASHER!
It's hard to describe what it's been like to live without a working kitchen for a month. I can't complain too much, thanks to my uber-patient hubby and my vast collection of random kitchen appliances (that electric griddle I gave Charlie so much shit about? LIFE. SAVER.). But damn, kids...doing dishes in the bathtub? There are no words for that suckage, let me tell you. My mom can tell you, though; her kitchen remodel took six months. SIX. Let that soak in. SIX MONTHS WITH NO MOTHER EFFING KITCHEN. And she didn't even KILL anybody!
Anyway, I'm not posting any pictures 'til everything's done, so you can get the full, dramatic "before and after" effect. Nine days to go!
Showing posts with label projects. Show all posts
Showing posts with label projects. Show all posts
12 August 2009
31 July 2009
On Contractors
We've remodeled our house almost completely, almost every room. After the kitchen is done, the only two rooms left pretty much untouched are the downstairs bathroom (we painted, that's about it) and the utility room. Over the last three years (I can't believe it's really been that long), we've encountered all different kinds of contractors and subcontractors, some good, some not so good. The good guys were surprisingly good, and I've included photos of their work and contact info wherever possible. The bad guys, though...ugh. I wouldn't wish 'em on anybody.
Nice Guy fools you with his friendly demeanor, pats on the shoulder, and soothing words like, "It's gonna be BEAUTIFUL when we're done!" Six months into the six-week project, you're ready to saw his head off with a piece of stray lumber as he tries to blame YOUR choice in paint for the god-awful job done by his sixteen-year-old "helper." (No, dude, semi-gloss paint doesn't end up looking like orange peel just because it's a dark color.) Nice Guy preys on the remodeling virgins, the people who've never done more than swap out a ceiling fan. You accept his higher bid because, well, he's just NICE! He loves your ideas, loves the color scheme, and really loves to take your money. He promises that the job won't be done until you're 100% satisfied, but doesn't return your calls when you want to know why his sub hacked into a door frame to accommodate a wall outlet, or why your tile that's supposed to have white grout looks like someone spilled coffee on half of it. Or why the tub makes a loud pop-CRACK! sound every time you fill it up or step into it. Or maybe why the caulk around the tub is already coming off. Or why there's paint on EVERYTHING. By the time it's done, though, you're so happy to have everything finished that you don't care -- you give him the check and swear you'll never use a general contractor again.
The A-hole
He comes to give you an estimate on flooring, and sneers at your choice. His words: "Why the HELL would you want to use BAMBOO?!" You're about to throw him out on his ear when he explains that for your lifestyle, what you've picked is basically crap that comes with no warranty. He proves you wrong, smirks, makes sassy comments. But he does fantastic work, shows up on time, and lets you buy all the flooring at once, store it in his warehouse, and then has his crew install it a room at a time.
Steve Salas, Master Image Flooring 757.282.6770
The Chatty Guy
He shows up on time and knows what he's doing. He's polite, loves your dogs like they're his own, and gives you good suggestions about the work you're doing in the house and what you've done so far. And more than anything, he loves to talk. He talks to himself, to his helpers, to you (even when you're in another room and totally not responding to him). A little kooky, but it's worth it -- his prices can't be beat.
Dave, Orefice Plumbing Heating & AC 757.436.9752
The Invisible Man
After being hired to complete some pretty simple trim work, he goes out for lunch and never comes back. Bonus: He disappears before you pay him, and also leaves his tools behind!
The Strong, Silent Type
They show up early and work fast. They're so quiet, it's eerie. And most of them look like they might've spent their morning in front of a judge after a weekend bar fight.
Sam Dowdy, Breaker Box Plus 757.689.8700
The Repeat Offender
Oh, the Repeat Offender...he's the dysfunctional boyfriend that you just can't bring yourself to dump because he's really, REALLY good at what he does. He shows up late (if at all), says he'll be back in an hour and doesn't come back for three. He does it every time, and every time you're about to write him off, he comes through for you.
Lawrence Harris, 757.717.2372
The Dipshit Duo
You decide to help out a friend, someone a family member suggests, someone who's hit hard times and could really use the work. You're a little wary, but you say, "Why not? She's cheap, and she says she can get it done in a hurry." Oh, little homeowner...you'll never make this mistake again. On the rare occasion that she shows up to do work, she ends up doing nothing. (Yes, because I'm paying you to sit on my patio and smoke with my husband's grandmother. I didn't really want walls in my bedroom. That's just silly!) Sometimes her husband comes with her, and he manages to stain your tablecloth, trail ashes and dirt wherever he goes, and generally annoy the bejeebus out of you the entire time. The whole thing ends with a screaming match on your front lawn, where you end up telling her to get off your property or you'll call the police.
Just makes you want to start ripping out walls and remodeling YOUR place, doesn't it?
Note: None of these people gave me any discounts or freebies in exchange for positive feedback in this blog post. This isn't a review blog, I don't have sponsors or advertisers, and I don't say good things about stuff just to get things for free.
09 July 2009
Histoire de la Maison
It occurred to me that I've been Tweeting about my kitchen remodel, and some of you don't know anything about my house. Since we're about to tear into the old cucina, I'll start there.
Our house was built in the early '50s, when apparently all one needed in a kitchen was a giant stove and about six inches of counter space. Delicious avocado-green lino tiles were the flooring choice of the day. Oh, and the cabinets? They've got fixed shelves that prevent me from storing anything taller than a salt shaker.
When we first moved in, the far wall was half windows, the floor was half carpet and half linoleum, and the walls were covered in hideous, nicotine-coated paper. Two tiny overhead fixtures and one ghetto-tastic under-cabinet fluorescent strip were the only sources of illumination. Your basic nightmare:
That thing lurking next to the microwave cart? Yeah, that's a boiler.
We couldn't afford to gut and redo the kitchen at the time, so we settled for some minor changes. We closed in the huge, nonsensical doorway to the dining room, added a sliding glass door to replace the bank of single-pane aluminum-frame windows, and swapped out the appliances. The hideous wallpaper got covered with plain white paint, and I scrubbed the tar and nicotine stains off of every surface I could. A vinyl remnant went down where the carpet used to be.
Anyway, we've made do for as long as possible. But now, it's got to be done. I'm home to cook dinner five nights a week, and I can't work in this old, stinky, Formica-coated U anymore. I thought we'd be stuck for another couple of years because of financial constraints, but lo and behold! My fantastic mom and mom-in-law have offered up the funds needed.
We're going to use Ikea cabinets, mostly because they're inexpensive (everything we need for under $2000) but also because they're nice looking and well-made. The countertops will be LG HiMacs solid surface, and the same flooring we used in the rest of the house (Armstrong laminate in "Tiger Maple") will continue into the kitchen. Here's the plan:
Our house was built in the early '50s, when apparently all one needed in a kitchen was a giant stove and about six inches of counter space. Delicious avocado-green lino tiles were the flooring choice of the day. Oh, and the cabinets? They've got fixed shelves that prevent me from storing anything taller than a salt shaker.
When we first moved in, the far wall was half windows, the floor was half carpet and half linoleum, and the walls were covered in hideous, nicotine-coated paper. Two tiny overhead fixtures and one ghetto-tastic under-cabinet fluorescent strip were the only sources of illumination. Your basic nightmare:
Wall color: NICOTINE
That thing lurking next to the microwave cart? Yeah, that's a boiler.
Fake fruit, a birdhouse, and a china cabinet made entirely of particle board.
We couldn't afford to gut and redo the kitchen at the time, so we settled for some minor changes. We closed in the huge, nonsensical doorway to the dining room, added a sliding glass door to replace the bank of single-pane aluminum-frame windows, and swapped out the appliances. The hideous wallpaper got covered with plain white paint, and I scrubbed the tar and nicotine stains off of every surface I could. A vinyl remnant went down where the carpet used to be.
It was a big improvement; we were making the best of what we had. And it really didn't bother me to be without broad expanses of counter space, a dishwasher, or functional cabinets. That is, until I had to cook Thanksgiving dinner. Dinner for six, cooked in the tiniest, most poorly laid-out kitchen I've ever worked in. And that year (2007), the far wall still had exposed studs and insulation hanging out over the stove. Everyone likes a little fiberglass in their stuffing, right?
Anyway, we've made do for as long as possible. But now, it's got to be done. I'm home to cook dinner five nights a week, and I can't work in this old, stinky, Formica-coated U anymore. I thought we'd be stuck for another couple of years because of financial constraints, but lo and behold! My fantastic mom and mom-in-law have offered up the funds needed.
We're going to use Ikea cabinets, mostly because they're inexpensive (everything we need for under $2000) but also because they're nice looking and well-made. The countertops will be LG HiMacs solid surface, and the same flooring we used in the rest of the house (Armstrong laminate in "Tiger Maple") will continue into the kitchen. Here's the plan:
An Ikea Dream, in greyscale
I can't put into words how grateful I am for my two moms and their generosity. And how lucky am I to have a hubs who's going to tackle 90% of this work on his own, while working full time AND finishing up his MBA? Yep, pretty darn lucky.
I can't put into words how grateful I am for my two moms and their generosity. And how lucky am I to have a hubs who's going to tackle 90% of this work on his own, while working full time AND finishing up his MBA? Yep, pretty darn lucky.
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