The Fixer Upper House and Garden

Photos Of ...

The floors looked spectacular for the 15 minutes that I saw them last week. The next day, GC taped a sign on the front door that said "Remove Shoes: Floors Just Refinished." This prompted the painters to tape heavy craft paper over the floors, so they could keep wearing their boots. This is good for the feet, good for the floors and good for the olefactory system.

Here are several photos of the work that's been going on recently. Great thought, care and effort went into every one of these projects by all involved--and not a little bit of agonizing!

The kitchen is shrouded in plastic:

Painting the bricks lightened up the kitchen a lot--the wall was once the exterior of the house. After we built the addition, Miguel had the idea to place HVAC ducts on both sides of the stained-glass window, creating a little desk-niche.

Here's what the refinished floors look like...under cover:

White snow, blue sky, new addition:

 

Before the recent spring snow storm, Nawkaw came out to stain the new bricks. I think they look good but Husband says "there's not enough red." Oh well.

The mudroom is multi-functional, including cubbies, a coat closest, nooks for dog beds and lots of shelves for stuff (opposite the cubbies). The Dutch door will come in handy when muddy paws need to be contained. To maximize light in the kitchen, we decided to not use the top half of the door.

This next photo shows what happens when you trim Motawi tiles. I will post about this in detail later, but if you're considering using hand-glazed tiles, just know you can't trim the field tiles that have variations in shading. Instead of trimming them to fit, you can order custom-sizes from Motwawi for just $4 more per tile:

The "Shaker Beige" paint on these plaster walls frames the old door and windows:

No matter what's going on in life, you still need to walk the dogs ...

 

... And dance!

Hooks or Hookers?

"It's better to be married to someone who's obsessed with hooks than to have a spouse who's into hookers," I said to Husband.

"Huh? What?" said he, looking up from the laptop.

I was dangling a sack of white, two-pronged coat-hooks in front of the screen. "What do you think about these for the mud-room cubbies?  Do you think it'll look crowded if I use 3 hooks in each cubby? They were kind of cheap. Do they look cheap?"

Cheap got his attention. "What? Oh. They're fine," he said.

I jingled the plastic bag again.

"They're awesome hooks!," he added, sensing my need for more feedback. "Great job!"

But I wasn't going to let him off the hook in regards to the hooks. "OK, so I'm obsessed!," I admitted. "Be thankful it's only hooks! Do you know how many stores I went to this week in search of hooks, door stoppers and a fireplace key with a black flange?

"No," he said. "No I don't know, but I think you're going to tell me."

"I went to six stores, seven if you count two separate Home Depots! And not one store had decent-looking door stoppers! And they're all either phasing out coat hooks or selling them at such a clip that they can't keep them in stock! You try it! You go to two Home Depots, Expo, Lowes, Renovation Hardware, Ace and Craftwood and we'll see how sane you are at the end of the week!"

"Do you want me to get you a beer?" he said, eyeing the computer again. "We have Blue Moon."

I love Blue Moon with a slice of orange, but I didn't need a beer right then. I needed the lap-top so I could search online for decorative hardware. In addition to 20 door stoppers, I need a dozen cool-looking-but-not-too-expensive coat hooks, 15 glass door knobs, one fireplace key with matching black flange and a hand-held shower nozzle that doesn't look like something Dr Frankenstein used to charge his monster. Not to forget 15 or so light fixtures, bathroom mirrors, carpet for the master suite and a retro-looking Formica counter for the laundry room.

"Yes," I said. "A beer would be great."

And while Husband was slicing the orange, I signed him off the laptop and got to work.

Fireplace Surround, Day 2

Some more pics of the progression of our fireplace surround. Leon will grout it today:

from another angle:

Here's Leon, who installed every type of tile possible in our entire house, including porcelain, ceramic, glass, marble and these hand-glazed tiles from Motawi.

On To The Next Thing: The Fireplace Surround

I am coping with the shock of the half-inch overhang fairly well today. Pushing up the leg posts is going to be an ordeal, given that they are nailed to the new floor, so we are going to fill the gaps with a strip of wood that's flush with the leg posts. This is different from placing scribes over the gaps, an earlier suggestion that left me colder than the ice on my front stoop because the scribes would stick all the way out to the edge of the overhang.

Enough about that.

Now it's time to focus on the fireplace surround. The lovely hand-glazed Motawi tiles arrived yesterday, so this morning I had another pow-wow with Bert and Miguel to go over the order. I think everyone was worried about one thing or another---that the tiles wouldn't fit within the just-built mantel, or that we wouldn't have enough pieces, or that Leon the installer wouldn't know what to do with them. Fortunately, our worst fears have not materialized and things are working out fine. Here are some pictures of the morning's progress.

Miguel examines options for the tile pattern beneath the soapstone hearth:

Here's Leon, the tile installer, making some suggestions:

As of about noon today, a work in progress. Leon was very busy!

A corner detail emerges. The photo really doesn't do that soapstone slab justice. It's black with a lot of green swirling around. Very cool:

One ... Half ... Inch

I expected to be blown away by the Costa Esmerelda counters after they were installed in my kitchen Thursday afternoon. I should have swooned, because the counters are graceful and lovely, with just the right depth of color and veining. But instead of swooning, I gasped in horror at the sight of a narrow gap between the island leg posts and countertop. While invisible to some, this gap is so obvious to me it's as if flashing arrows are pointing at it.

"What is that GAP?" I asked Edgar, the counter installation guy who is about the age I was when I graduated from college. "The countertop is too small!" Nervously, Edgar got out the order.

"Ma'am," he said politely, "These are the dimensions you signed off on when the counters were measured last week."

I looked at the order. The island counter was measured from the rail and not from the leg posts, which jut out a couple of centimeters beyond the rail. What this means is that while most of the counter has a one-inch overhang, the overhang at the two leg posts is only about one-half inch. The gap between the posts and the counter exaggerates this one-half-inch deficit.

Hysteria started lurching from my stomach. Or was that lunch?

I called Miguel.

"What is that GAP?" I asked Miguel.

He didn't seem too worried.

"Yea, I noticed that. We just have to push the leg posts up and it will be OK," he said.

"But what about the OVERHANG?" I asked, gripping the cellphone to my ear. "It's only one-half-inch at the leg posts!"

"It's supposed to be like that," Miguel said, trying to reassure me. "It's supposed to look like a farm table."

"It looks like a man who arrived at his wedding in tuxedo pants that are too short!" I cried.

Now Miguel was starting to get worried---not about the counter but about my state of mind. "It's not that bad!" he said. "I'll come by and take another look."

I called Husband.

"The counters are in and the island top looks like it shrunk in the dryer!" I wailed.

"It can't be that bad!" he said. "I'll get off early and take a look."

That day, Bert the GC, Carl the carpenter, Mark the kitchen designer, Miguel the architect and Husband the husband all came to the house to see the patient I mean the island counter top. None of them felt the overhang was an issue. They offered various solutions, ranging from using a scribe to fill the gaps to placing "buttons" at the foot of the posts so that the leg tops are flush with the bottom of the counter. They tried to assure me that once the gaps are filled, the overhang will not be an issue.

"But that's because you don't think it's even an issue with the gaps!" I said suspiciously. I calculated the height difference between Husband and me, which is about seven inches.

"You can't even see what I'm talking about!" I cried.

I demanded another solution. All reluctantly agreed that in addition to filling the gaps, we could adjust the island by pushing the legs in one-half inch at both sides. This sounds easy, but it's not without repercussions because the leg posts are already nailed into the floor boards, and if we move the leg posts forward a half inch, the holes in the floor might --- or might not--- be exposed. We also would have to cut and move the rails, exposing nail holes in the island that would have to be filled and stained. Plus, these adjustments would affect the symmetry of the overhang, making it deeper than one-inch at the rails.

I asked my brother-in-law Chip, who's a woodworking guy, to evaluate the island overhang, and he doesn't think it's a problem. My sister agrees, and my kids think I'm crazy to actually talk about something like: "The overhang? What's the overhang?"

Part of me worries that everyone secretly believes the overhang is a real issue, but that they don't want to say so because of all the work that's involved in fixing it. But then again, maybe it really is a non-event. Maybe I'm just too close to the situation. Maybe I'm just a little looney.

Either way: It's bugging me. Here are some more pictures:

from the left side:

from the right side, with a piece of wood shoved in the gap to show what it might look like when the gap is filled:

Hillary and Me

It's crunch time for Hillary and me. While she travels the country trying to get you to vote for her, I'm finalizing the details on my house. If she blows it this week, she'll probably never make it back to the White House. If I don't get the aesthetics right, I could blow the whole renovation project. Oh HIllary, I know just how you feel! To work so hard and come this far ...

I think I have a better chance of succeeding in my endeavor than she has in hers. A few days ago I visited the granite yard to lay out templates for my countertops. It took an hour to drive there, and while dodging potholes more treacherous than any news leak, I fretted about the slabs of Costa Esmerelda that I picked out for my kitchen 2 weeks ago. Would I hate them and be filled with regret? Fortunately, it was love at second site, and thank goodness for that! (Here's a goofy picture of me in front of one of my granite slabs.) The counters are getting installed this week, and I can hardly wait.

Later I met with a "paint consultant" at my house to go over options for the first floor. I'd been in an absolute frenzy about wall colors after receiving conflicting advice from my many trusted advisors; at one point I was testing 21 Benjamin Moore colors in one room (you try picking out the paint for every single centimeter of your house! It's overwhelming!). But I'm at peace now; I'm feeling fine! With help from Dee, a consultant at the J.C. Licht paint store where my painter Derrick gets his paint, I've settled on HC-114 for the kitchen, mudroom, butler's pantry and powder room; HC 35 for the family room; HC-45 for the living room and foyer, and 2080-10--a cheery paint called Raspberry Truffle--for the dining room. Expect lattes and a home-made dessert if you come for a visit...

Meanwhile, work progresses at the house. Leon the tile guy is back this week, finishing up bathrooms and such before embarking on the all-important fireplace surround. Painters Mike and Andy put the first coats on the 2nd floor and basement rooms last week and now are prepping and painting the first floor. The kitchen's beadboard ceiling has been painted (the photo at left shows the painter, Derrick, testing various ceiling colors.) Carpenters Sebastian and Matt have completed the fireplace mantel, mudroom cubbies and the cozy window nook---applause is welcomed and accepted! Also: Husband ordered all appliances. Miguel sketched the layout for the laundry room ...  And after juggling the opinions of a half-a-dozen tradesmen on the proper stain for the hardwood floors, I've finally decided to go with a light-brown color called Early American, per Miguel's suggestion.

So many trusted advisors...so many opposing opinions. Yes Hillary, I think I know how you feel.

Here are a few pictures of the stones I picked out for various counters. This first photo is Costa Esmerelda granite, for the kitchen. I love the greenish-blue colors and the subtle white veins that appear throughout. The computer doesn't do it justice:

The next photo is of the green soapstone that I'm using in the "butler's pantry"; I'm also using this for the raised hearth in the family room. It's not a very clear picture, unfortunately:

And below, behold a slab of quartz for the kids bathroom. It's more sparkly in real life:

Ready Or Not!

Given how long it took me to choose a counter, is it any wonder I'm losing sleep over paint colors?

I'm presently surrounded by dozens of Benjamin Moore color wheels and brochures; it's like pulling an all-nighter during finals! Last week, my decorator Jean and I picked out several B-M-Affinity paints, but the cabinets were covered in cardboard; we had no fireplace tiles; and I had yet to chose a counter. Tonight, these colors seem too dark; too thick, even. Also, my painter says you can get the same colors for less $$ in Benjamin Moore's regular lineup. ... What to do?

Ready or not, tomorrow the painters are going to test some colors. I've picked out a few safe bets: "white dove" for all the trim; "maritime white" for the hallways; and "pomegranite" for the dining room (I like red). For much of the rest of house, I'm leaning toward "soft-whites," such as B-M's "dreamy cloud" for the master bedroom and "swiss coffee" for the kitchen and family room. But I'm really shooting in the dark on these whites, and I wonder if the snowy weather has affected my color palette?

Here's a photo M shot today of a stream near our house ... as we were slowly bumping down an icy road beside it:

Set In Stone

I bought my tile today: several hundred ceramic, porcelain and marble polygons from four retailers. Some people buy everything from one store. I'm not one of these people. This is partly because I needed different materials and designs for several rooms. It's also because not one store had everything I wanted for the price I needed. For example, I priced my job at several "stone and tile" stores that could have accomodated my entire job---from the hand-made fireplace tiles (pictured here) to the kitchen counters to the cheapo-porcelain 12x12s for the mudroom. But there was always a problem: at one store, the sales staff was snooty. At another, quality was great but prices were high. Another dealer offered reasonable prices but boring material.

I never said I was easy to please. And for what this stuff costs, you shouldn't be either.

So I shopped around a lot. Husband and budget necessitated that I seek the best prices, but I also shopped for quality material and interesting designs. And for the record I will say that when I was on the fence, I leaned in favor of sales people who were helpful and interested in my job.

I liked Beeta, who runs the desk at Stone Habitat in Mundelein. Her store has a great selection of marble and granite; she was helpful; she negotiated; and the price was right. I bought my kitchen counters (Santa Cecelia granite and Soapstone), fireplace hearth (Soapstone), and master bathroom counter and tiles (Italian carerra marble) from Stone Habitat. The installer, Joe, came to the house to measure before I made my decision. In fact, Stone Habitat and Expo were the only ones who sent installers to take accurate field measurements for the quote (Expo wanted to charge $200 for this service, but I wouldn't pay it). Stone Habitat sells stone and only stone...so I bought my marble and granite there and for ceramic I went elsewhere...

For ideas and selection of ceramic tiles, you can't beat Expo. Its tile department is expansive, brightly lit, and with moderate to higher prices. (I was surprised how bad the lighting was in many tile stores.) Getting someone to help you is a challenge--some of sales reps at my local Expo seem like they've been working the prison night shift for too many years. But a young rep named Katherine was a great help to me. I did the kids' bathroom at Expo: white ceramic subways with glass mosaic accent tiles the color of a Fresca bottle that's been in the ocean for 30 years; 2x2 octagonal white ceramic floor tiles, and Corian "whitecap" counter tops. Worth noting about Expo: its installation quote was outrageous; Donald Trump must buy his tile there. I bought the material, but not the labor. Also worth noting: they're having a tile sale--20% off. This helped a lot. Worth worrying about: I suspect delays.

I got my mud-room flooring at a heavily advertised chain called Century Tile. Originally, I planned on using brick-colored Marmoleum, but I went with 12x12 porcelain tiles that look like natural slate, per my decorator Jean's suggestion. These "NK-17" tiles are very durable (comes in handy with 2 dogs) and cost less than $4 a square foot. They'll be ready for pick-up tomorrow.

Because I shopped around and negotiated everything, I was able to splurge on the fireplace surround in the family room. I'm going with the handmade tiles pictured above from Motawi (www.motawi.com), which I bought at The Fine Line Tile Gallery in Chicago. They're expensive, and the installation is, too. But it's worth it.

Kitchen Counter: Dramatic Turn Of Events

Friends and readers may recall my obsession for finding the perfect kitchen counter. Over the past year I explored counters of every variety and material, and I was set to splurge on soapstone until a grey morning in October when I realized it was too dark for the new kitchen. At that moment--literally--my new friends George and Linda stopped by and suggested that I look at their counter, Sensa Perlado honed marble. I did, and for many weeks I was determined to go with this lovely cream and tan stone, which Husband and Miguel agreed would lighten up the kitchen and look swell with the cabinets.

Then reality set in.

One night last week, the darling and effervescent 10-year-old C did the dishes in the borrowed house and helped get the lunches ready for the next day. She whistled and sang and chatted and did a fine job on the chores save one thing: She forgot to wipe the counter. In the morning, raspberry jelly, chocolate frosting, orange juice and a chili-covered spoon were congealed to the Formica. Fortunately, the cleanup was a snap, and no one was worse for the wear, including the white Formica. Had the counter been marble, it would have had to be refinished.

I'll save honed marble for the empty nester years.

This brought me back to the beginning, much to Husband's dismay. An active participant in the counter hunt six months ago, he now was willing to agree to anything ... anything...so long as I made a decision.

"You've got to pull the trigger on this," he said.

"Please stop talking about counters," the children added.

By last week I had eliminated soapstone, marble, wood, tile and counters made of recycled paper, as well as Corian, Silestone, Ceasarstone and all other solid surfaces. Where did this leave me? It left me with granite. 

I don't like granite because it's overused, but I've realized there's a reason for this: It's durable, affordable and nature-made. If you can overcome an aversion to speckles, it's not even too ugly. So I went back to Stone Habitat in Mundelein (www.stonehabitat.com), which has the best prices in my area, and I picked out a light-colored, speckly granite in cream, grey, tan, brown and black that's called either Santa Cecelia or Venetian Gold, depending on the slab. (I later changed my mind ... again ... and went with Costa Esmerelda!) It looks good with the cabinet door sample, it coordinates well with the fireplace tiles and the best part: it costs less than soapstone and honed marble. To mix it up, I'm using soapstone for the butler's pantry and on the raised hearth in the family room ... and I'm still coming in under-budget.

In fact, the only things that are coming in under budget are those that I'm pricing out myself.

Rose-Colored Fiberglasses

Fiberglass had not been invented as a solid material when my house was built in 1928. Brick, stucco, stained glass, ceramic tile, porcelain, wood: My modest 1928 Dutch colonial has these holistic materials in abundance, and I'm incorporating them all into the renovation. It's feels noble to say I'm doing a "period renovation."

Then why did Home Depot deliver a four-foot fiberglass shower to my yard on Saturday morning?  According to "Small Houses of the Twenties," which is a terrific reference book, houses like mine didn't even have showers let alone a one-piece unit made from the material used in Jet Skis. People bathed in footed, porcelain tubs ... on Sundays ... in shared, luke-warm bathwater. Most mail-order kit houses had only one bathroom; mine has a full bath upstairs and a 5x3-foot "half-bath" on the first floor (which strangely is the only room not being expanded, shrunk or otherwise tweaked by our renovation).

We're adding a master bathroom to the 2nd floor and expanding the kids' bathroom to include two vanities and a linen closet. As with the kitchen, I'm going for a 1920s look, with inset painted cabinets, glass knobs and hexagon tiles surrounding porcelain tubs. Real 1920s kit-house bathrooms didn't have vanities or linen closets or even laundry chutes--they had pedestal sinks and hooks on the wall. So you could say I'm veering off the "period" trajectory with the vanities and closets. But at least I'm sticking with materials from that era---marble counters in the master bathroom and (if we can afford it) Enviroglas for the girls' counters (more on this material later).

So about that fiberglass shower: Since we have a lot of friends 800 miles away in New Jersey and Pennsylvania but no guest room in which to house said friends when they (must) visit, we decided to put a third full bath in the finished basement. And no offense to our wonderful future guests, but the fiberglass shower cost $2,500 less than a tiled shower. And it's really big! All our kids and dogs can fit in it at one time. Imagine what we can save on the water bill...

Besides, fiberglass isn't too far afield. When renovating an older home that many people would've torn down, you get to fudge a little on the historic-preservation thing. My house is many things--charming, old, small, functional, oozing with potential. But above all else, it's practical. If fiberglass had been a shower option in 1928, I bet the original builders would've used it!