Value
Part 37
Well here we have it. I’m not finished the kitchen, but I’m as finished as I can be for now. So I’ll share some befores, durings and as-much-as-afters with you.
You all know how it looked before I began. It was a dark, dreary, melancholy room. Low on the value scale, both artistic and worth. There were no counters or cabinets. No cooking surfaces other than the stove, which sat at an angle and had a mismatched broiler door. The stove hasn’t changed. It works, and I’m thankful for that.
The clock on the stove, however, is difficult to change. The button to advance the clock had to be pushed in so far, that the plastic eventually pushed on through, and now not only does it not work, there is a poke-hole in the plastic cover. To set the time, the back button still works, but who the heck wants to go back 25 hours, through each minute, when clocks were to be set ahead last night.
~ Why do we continue to do this time change deal-i-o? Did you know there are more accidents and injuries in the week following the spring and fall time change? More people get sick, hospitals see more traffic. We are not supposed to be changing our internal clocks back and forth. That’s it. I’m moving back to Arizona (or to Saskatchewan) where Mountain Stranded Time rules. ~
So the stove clock had to be changed, and I refused to spend the time going backward, so I pulled out the whole faceplate with the clock and timer unit to see if I could get at the advance button from the inside. And it sparked at me! So I put it back in. The clock will stay as it is for the rest of its time here on earth, correct for only half the year.
The first thing I did in the kitchen was to remove the floor. (Actually, the first thing I did was remove the paintable wallpaper and the vinyl wallpaper by the stove. But I’ve done that through the whole house so it doesn’t bear much of a mention anymore.) The flooring was a linoleum sheet of pretend parquet, ripped in spots, stained in others. Under that floor were some sort of tiles. Imagining they could be asbestos, I did my best to wear all my protective gear, do the job as quickly as possible and clean up thoroughly afterward. I honestly like the look and colour of the bare plywood subfloor. And it gave me an indication as to potential trouble spots for the future. Like the small flood in the kitchen and adjoining bathroom recently.
After removing the floor, I sealed off the room and gave everything a sanding; the floors, the bead board wainscoting, and the walls. Then another thorough cleaning to prep for paint. I mudded the walls a couple of times and have wondered about the ceiling under this drywall ceiling. This ceiling had never been finished and there were gaps up to an inch or more wide all along the perimeter of the room. In some spots, I could see the original bead board ceiling. I was super tempted at one point to remove the drywall and get an extra inch of ceiling height, but the thought of a possible repair job to the bead board was not something I wanted to face, so I filled the gap around the room and painted the drywall ceiling instead.
The beadbord on the lower half of the walls got 4 coats of white semi-gloss to cover the drab old navy blue. The walls got a special colour. For months I’ve been going to the hardware stores and picking up paint swatches and every time it seemed, I came back with the same colour despite the different brands of swatches. During a trip to Halifax to change the mattresses I had bought from Ikea from double to queen, and get straight lumber from Home Depot (How many times did I go to build with the straight, kiln-dried lumber I bought from our local Home Hardware, let it sit in the kitchen for a couple of days until I could get to it, finding the wood had seriously bent or twisted, rendering this wooden gold, useless?). I also came across a Habitat for Humanity Restore. A great option for building and home reno supplies and furniture. I found two perfect, sturdy wood and upholstered bar stools for the planned breakfast bar in the kitchen. I also found some good quality mistint gallons of paint for $15. So I picked up an almost fluorescent yellow, knowing I could tint it to the colour I want.
After the painting, I had collected enough wood to go ahead and start building the wall between the laundry and kitchen which I had envisioned the first time I looked at the realtor photos. Of course the floors and ceilings are not level, so each stud is a slightly different length. I left a cut-out the same shape and size as the cutout in the wall from the living room to the laundry area. To allow heat from the wood stove, and light from the laundry room window to come in. I also wanted to mirror the effect of space that the opening gives. I also framed out the doorway into the laundry room to hang one of the big old wood doors I’ve been hauling around with me since I found them in the forest in Squamish. It’s perfect for there. I’ll eventually get/make/paint a stained glass piece for the opening.
The drywall was fun. Two full sheets that I cut to size on my dining room table. There is a video going around on social media. Kind of a where there’s a will there’s a way video. Of a man taking a full-sized refrigerator off the back of a pickup truck and onto a small dolly, by himself. He manoeuvred that thing expertly and when it would have come crashing down onto anyone else, he got it softly into the dolly without straining himself. This is how I felt with these sheets of drywall. Getting them onto the table and then off the table through a doorway and standing them up in a room that is 2 inches taller on one side than the other, was no easy feat and when I had both sheets screwed in place, I let out the loudest holler and hoot and did my seriously happy pants dance all around the kitchen, singing, “I built a fucking wall, I am amazing…!!”
That was the easy part. I laid out the bases for the cabinets and then came to the realization that I am not really a carpenter or cabinet maker. It took a bit of figuring out to come to a plan for putting the counters together sturdily and still look nice when they were done. I’m not going for an IKEA kitchen. I’m going for a more rustic, artist’s farmhouse kitchen.
Now that the main part of the kitchen is painted and I’m not always looking at the laundry while I cook, I can’t wait to get in there.
In the morning, the sun hangs out in there for quite some time until later in the afternoon when the sun comes in the other side by the sink. It is so bright and lovely. The floors will wait until I know what I really want to do (I’m thinking radiant heat under slate or stone tiles). And the counter tops and trim will wait until I can afford more wood. And the pantry needs to be painted and the counter tops sanded back to wood, but that can wait as well. I’ve not only brought the value of the house up with this kitchen work, it has also increased the value in terms of light. Lighter colours bring a lighter vibration and that kitchen now fells like being on a cloud. Already it has heard more laughter and song, and that is a big part of what this house is for me. A lightness of being after years of undervaluing myself and carrying such a weight.
Though the snow and wind blow outside, and the fire flickers in the wood stove, spring is on its way and all the outside work that comes with it.
Exciting news for next time: I’ll show you the bedrooms and we’ll talk a bit about colour and texture.
Next: Colour and Texture
Notes from the Edge of the World 