Kitchen Reveal

Aside from the tantrum our dishwasher recently threw, the kitchen is basically done. We just need to add handles, install open shelving, and overlay the heating pipe. Oh, and cover the header over the passthrough with a cedar beam. And put in those cabinet fronts that are due to arrive from IKEA in 10 days. If you see a few holes where a cabinet door should be, blame IKEA.

So it's not really done. But since I know you wake up early every morning to check if I've posted the kitchen reveal, I thought I'd go ahead and do it.  

We don't need to rehash how bad the kitchen was before, do we? That's not why you're here. The time for mourning is over, now is the time of celebration and feasting. But in case you want to review, here is the video I made while applying for HGTV's most desperate kitchen in America. (They never called.) Also, a few before pictures to refresh your memory:

Everything must go.

We knocked this wall out, as seen below.

See?

Goodbye laminate counter tops and musty cabinets.

So long oversized fridge.

Goodbye tiny passthrough, sponge painted walls and track lighting.

TA DA!

Sources

Cabinets, Sink, Faucet, Island, Tray, Stove Hood: Ikea

Light fixtures, Tiles: Home Depot

Counters, Appliances: Re-Store

Wine rack, Angled shelving: Custom made by Jordan Jones

Bowls, Cups, Placemats, Butterdish: Anthropologie

Polka Dot Measuring Cup and Spoons: Francesca's

Pie Dish: William Sonoma

How to Survive a Kitchen Remodel

There were moments I didn't think I'd make it. There were moments I wasn't "making it", depending on your definition. One desperate night, I cried for four hours straight. Jordan offered to take me to a hotel. The dust was making me crazy. But somehow I survived. And you, too can survive a kitchen remodel. But not without my tips. Here they are.

1. Set up a temporary kitchen.

You will need: a flat surface on which to place a crock pot, a toaster oven, and a microwave. If you can get your hands on a camp stove, all the better. We were kindly loaned one, but never actually used it because I am intimated by all things that require a propane tank. However, having it nearby gave me great peace of mind. You never know when you might need to make emergency scrambled eggs.

2. Accept that this is a season of paper plates.

These grilled cheeses were made in the toaster oven.
(They weren't good. Should have used the camp stove.)

I recommend getting loads of the flimsy, cheap paper ones and purchasing a small pack of the thick, sturdy, plastic kind. Use a new paper plate for each meal, but layer it over a plastic one for sturdiness. Or, if your great aunt still has the woven wicker plates that were used for the same purposes in the 80s, borrow those.

In order to push away feelings of guilt for creating waste, I recommend either moving away from Colorado, or throwing everything away with reckless abandon as a kind of systematic desensitization. (This is especially difficult if you've recently lived in Germany, but press on.) This means no saving the plastic knife. Even if you only used it to butter your bagel. You are in a fragile state and wiping butter off the knife will cause you too much stress. Exception: If your temporary kitchen has a sink, you are allowed, but not required, to wash plastic utensils.

3. Crock Pot Freezer Meals

Cabinet Installation 

In order to use those paper plates, you will need to spend the two days before demolition furiously cooking 42 meals. Store them in plastic bags, label, and freeze them. And if you don't have easy sink access, you may want to purchase crock pot liners for the actual cooking of the meals. These were invented by a desperate woman during her kitchen remodel (probably). I'm sure they leached toxic plasticness into our meals, but they sure made clean up easy.

4. Find someone who needs a house sitter.

Lovely dinner with the family, compliments of the Kennedy's kitchen

When I thought I couldn't handle any more kitchen construction, some of our best friends left to vacation in Florida. It worked out great for all of us. I escaped the mice that had invaded my temporary kitchen, fed their sweet dog, and used their kitchen to make breakfast, lunch and dinner. Each day I would load up a bag of groceries and drive seven blocks to their clean, functioning kitchen. I went on a baking spree that week, and also re-stocked my freezer with crock pot meals.

If this is not a viable option, think outside the box. Why not bring a dozen eggs to hardboil next time you babysit? Or fill a box of dirty dishes to wash at your friends' next dinner party? (Make sure they are very good friends.) Also, go on lots of picnics.


5. When all else fails, escape.

When I really was at the end of my rope (during the week of the four hour cry followed by the desperate hotel offer), salvation came in the form of some backup. With perfect timing, my Mom and my brother showed up in Denver. Cody braved the dust to help Jordan put together cabinets, and was re-payed in chipotle meals. My Mom whisked me away to Colorado Springs, where we enjoyed a girls' weekend, sleeping in featherbeds, and eating out. There was no dust to be seen. I gradually became sane again.

* * *

And finally, a few things we would do differently. If we could start over, we wouldn't demolish the kitchen weeks before we actually started work. But this is the first time we've flipped a house on purpose (the first one was by accident) and we didn't know any better. We would also not order cabinets from IKEA when they were all on backorder. This would have saved us at least five trips so far. The only other thing Jordan recently told me he'd change is the entire design of the kitchen. He explained this amazing plan to make it U-shaped, by moving the sink and the door to the bathroom. Then he would put in one of those garage doors that cool restaurants have instead of windows. Oh well.

But at this point, it's hard to look back with regrets because the kitchen looks SO awesome. I am allowed to brag because I had almost nothing to do with it, except for begging Jordan to lay the subway tile in a herringbone pattern. It's beautiful. You will be jealous. I am jealous that someone else gets to enjoy it when we sell in three weeks (hopefully). And it's going on the blog tomorrow!

20 More Days

I was having a nice day until Jordan mentioned that we have 20 DAYS to finish the house. 

20 DAYS!

Here is the problem with that:

When you enter the house, you do not get the feeling that it is almost finished. You get the feeling that you'd better keep your shoes on so you don't step on a nail. Your shoes track drywall dust from the living room into the kitchen, that is still missing a few cabinet fronts (thanks to IKEA backorders). You go into the Chipotle bathroom, which looks done, aside from the window that needs painting, but then you realize there is no door. So you pick your way through the guest bedroom, past a couch, a stove, various tools, lamps and a pile of bricks to get to the subway tile bathroom that has become the center for washing paint brushes. You head upstairs, hoping for signs of progress, but the dust and tools littering the staircase and landing don't look promising. Nothing has been painted, 1970s carpet covers the floors, and popcorns ceilings still watch over you while you sleep. There is a bit of hope in the form of herringbone subway tile in the master bathroom, but it needs painting and light fixtures. Oh, and the entire second floor needs new windows. Also, the outside of the house needs painting. And a new front porch. 

I used to scoff at the way HGTV shows create drama toward the end of each episode. "Will they finish?!" "There's too much work and not enough time!" But the struggle is real. There is always more that can be done, and not enough time to do it all. People keep asking us, "Do you think you'll finish?" And the answer is that we honestly don't know. We may not know until day 19. 

The reason we need to finish in 20 days is because on July 14th we are leaving for three weeks for family and friend reunions. We don't want the house to sit empty for three weeks without being on the market. It's easier to sell a house no one is living in. And the sooner we can get the house under contract, the sooner we get paid. As this is our main source of income, it would be a shame to run out of money right before we sell it. 

We had a little helper tonight! 

So I'm going to be painting like a crazy person for the next three weeks. And during my breaks, I'm going to keep the blog and Instagram up to date on our progress. It feels very much like we are on a remodeling reality show--not just the unknowns of when we'll finish, but also the emotional drama (coming mostly from me). The other day I told Jordan I might literally be going crazy from all this dust. And this week, we are sanding the wood floors. So pray for us please. And follow along! 

A sign that we'll finish on time?!

Chipotle Inspired Bathroom Reveal

I don't love the name Chipotle Bathroom. But after my Dad said it reminded him of the restaurant, the name stuck.  The plethora of corrugated steel is the only similarity, but it helps us differentiate between this bathroom, the Subway Tile Guest Bathroom and the Master Bath.

I really wish I still had a picture of the horrific sink vanity and miniature toilet, but we had a recent technology malfunction. Picture a laminate countertop of the puke green and yellow marble variety, atop a heavy brown cabinet. And the toilet was for tiny people. Whenever I sat down, I landed with a thud since I wasn't expecting to drop so low. This room was ugly and dysfunctional.

Before

During

After

So we purchased a taller toilet and made a few other changes as well. I really love the new washroom feel. Around the corner from the laundry room, it reminds me of a bathroom you might find in the servants' quarters of an old mansion. (That's mostly thanks to the clawfoot tub, which I firmly believe is a necessity in any house.) While pretending to be Cinderella certainly helped pass the hours wiping drywall dust off the walls and floor, the true Cinderella is the bathroom itself.

Though this isn't our first experience experience with clawfoot tubs, we made a remarkable, new discovery. Instead of repainting the feet, Jordan sanded them down. This revealed a beautiful, silver-colored, cast iron glow.

The benefit of using corrugated steel for our bathroom's makeover was that it's relatively cheap, and less time consuming than tile to install. (Especially subway tile!) While the real Cinderella didn't strive to resemble a healthyish fast food restaurant, we like the industrial look it lent our bathroom. That and the sudden craving for burritos that hits you upon entering.