My dad, though we don't always see eye-to-eye, is a great guy. He does things that drive me nuts (whose dad doesn't?), and amazing things that make me cry from their sheer wonderfulness. For example, when he helped us finance the house purchase, and what he did this weekend.
He's spent the past two days demoing out the powdered dryrot, painting what's left with Cuprinol (so I, breastfeeding mommy, don't have to), and reframing the now-missing bits. In between, while waiting for the copper green to dry, he's removing all the remaining carpet tackstrips.
I told him not to worry about insulating the addition or drywalling it, because I can do that, and also because he's one of those "lucky" ones that gets more than itchy from installing fiberglas (He gets a full-blown case of allergic dermatitis, no matter how well covered he is). If he can spare me some discomfort and exposure to things I can't be exposed to (mold, copper green), the least I can do is spare him some in return.
Thanks, Daddy. I can't even tell you how much it means that you've helped us out like this. Especially now. It's the best birthday present in the world.
Showing posts with label demo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label demo. Show all posts
Monday, August 21, 2006
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Powdered House
I finished demoing out the ceiling in the diningroom bay addition yesterday.
Me: "OH MY GOD. It's powder. This was a beam."
EMT J (as distinct from Wiring J): "Is that like cancer for a house?"
Me:"Yes. Hopefully, it's operable, and not terminal."
We discovered the dryrot. Lots of it. In a place I was hoping against hope wasn't dryrotted. And after I stopped swearing, I made a plan of attack.
There was a leak from the rain gutter, maybe 30 years ago, that was allowed to EAT AWAY THE SUPPORT MEMBERS of about a 2'x8' section of the bay roof. And the roofers who "fixed" it just put up a really heavy sheathing board over the hole (I'm guessing 1" ply, since I can SEE it through the approximately 2x1 foot ragged hole in the old tongue and groove sheathing). The 4x4 beam that runs across the face of the wall has been reduced to powder in one place, and to an uneven 1x4 in others. The crosspieces that allegedly rest on it are damaged, so they really more hang near it.
The bay is literally being held up by the roof sheathing resting on the house sheathing (thankfully, some hard wood in big planks, topped with good solid wood lap siding). Oh, and the windows, with their trim.
Shudder. SH@# F@#& D#^* M@&^*@#$^$@#!
So, we have a lot of yanking of trim and reframing to do, which puts us back a good week or two, optimistically. Last night, we bought a shopvac to "demo" the powdered wood with, plus some filter bags to catch the yuck. Today, we are off to buy the replacement lumber.
Good thing we already have a nice stash of salvaged 2x4's. We'll need them to build the temporary supports.
Me: "OH MY GOD. It's powder. This was a beam."
EMT J (as distinct from Wiring J): "Is that like cancer for a house?"
Me:"Yes. Hopefully, it's operable, and not terminal."
We discovered the dryrot. Lots of it. In a place I was hoping against hope wasn't dryrotted. And after I stopped swearing, I made a plan of attack.
There was a leak from the rain gutter, maybe 30 years ago, that was allowed to EAT AWAY THE SUPPORT MEMBERS of about a 2'x8' section of the bay roof. And the roofers who "fixed" it just put up a really heavy sheathing board over the hole (I'm guessing 1" ply, since I can SEE it through the approximately 2x1 foot ragged hole in the old tongue and groove sheathing). The 4x4 beam that runs across the face of the wall has been reduced to powder in one place, and to an uneven 1x4 in others. The crosspieces that allegedly rest on it are damaged, so they really more hang near it.
The bay is literally being held up by the roof sheathing resting on the house sheathing (thankfully, some hard wood in big planks, topped with good solid wood lap siding). Oh, and the windows, with their trim.
Shudder. SH@# F@#& D#^* M@&^*@#$^$@#!
So, we have a lot of yanking of trim and reframing to do, which puts us back a good week or two, optimistically. Last night, we bought a shopvac to "demo" the powdered wood with, plus some filter bags to catch the yuck. Today, we are off to buy the replacement lumber.
Good thing we already have a nice stash of salvaged 2x4's. We'll need them to build the temporary supports.
Monday, August 07, 2006
We finished something! Call the press!
The living room is DONE (well, except for refinishing the floor, but we'll wait on that until the kids are older). We also got the carpet out of the dining room, and it looks an order of magnitude better, even with the hole in the ceiling. A million staples later, we have floors we are already happy with.
The bath is half tiled, all fixtures are in, and the only things waiting to be done (besides part 2 of the tiling) are the faucets on the shower wall (we must finish tiling and grouting first) and connecting the sink to the plumbing. All the weird, fiddly, awkward tiling is now complete.
The Amazing Debris Collection is almost gone. The next dumpster load is waiting next to the dumpster, and we have a few pieces left in the house.
I updated our budget sheet last night and we have spent about 4 grand on tools and materials so far. It sounds awful, but if we had hired people to do this for us, we would have spent 10-20 grand, just to get this far. Even if it would have gone faster, it wouldn't have gone much faster (and may have gotten slower). Our friends A and R hired folks to do all their work last year, and it took them 9 months to get into their house. It's a Stick style house, and it looks great now, but it was a fustercluck for a long time, there.
By the way, spellcheck hates "fustercluck" - and suggests I use "festers" instead. Apt.
The bath is half tiled, all fixtures are in, and the only things waiting to be done (besides part 2 of the tiling) are the faucets on the shower wall (we must finish tiling and grouting first) and connecting the sink to the plumbing. All the weird, fiddly, awkward tiling is now complete.
The Amazing Debris Collection is almost gone. The next dumpster load is waiting next to the dumpster, and we have a few pieces left in the house.
I updated our budget sheet last night and we have spent about 4 grand on tools and materials so far. It sounds awful, but if we had hired people to do this for us, we would have spent 10-20 grand, just to get this far. Even if it would have gone faster, it wouldn't have gone much faster (and may have gotten slower). Our friends A and R hired folks to do all their work last year, and it took them 9 months to get into their house. It's a Stick style house, and it looks great now, but it was a fustercluck for a long time, there.
By the way, spellcheck hates "fustercluck" - and suggests I use "festers" instead. Apt.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Some progress, some regression, and some blessings counted.
I'm counting my blessings, lest I sink into despair. There will be no moving in this week. FX will come home to an unfinished house, even if he will have a play area to use while we work.
Why? We have fixtures in the bath now, and even some tile (Thanks, MOM!), but that's not really done yet. That's the progess. However, in the process of getting there, we discovered that the toilet we wanted to keep was Done For.
After re-installing it. Sigh. Off to the Home Improvement Store (this time it was Menard's) for a new toilet, a cheap new toilet, and other necessities. Unforseen spending later, (under 200 bucks, really, so we got out cheap, but it was still not budgeted for) there is, once again, a toilet in our new bathroom.
Well, if we have to move for any reason, we can advertise it as having "all new fixtures" in the bath. I don't want to move, this house has ahold of my soul.
Now to the livingroom carpet. Remember the carpet dream? Well, it was partially prophetic - that horrible carpet was on a pad that was either glued down or that degraded in a manner most foul. We've been scraping for two days, and we only have 1/3 of the floor exposed. I see refinishing in my future - but, at least, not sanding. Scrubbing, on hands and knees, and revarnishing, but no sanding in this room, at least.
Why? We have fixtures in the bath now, and even some tile (Thanks, MOM!), but that's not really done yet. That's the progess. However, in the process of getting there, we discovered that the toilet we wanted to keep was Done For.
After re-installing it. Sigh. Off to the Home Improvement Store (this time it was Menard's) for a new toilet, a cheap new toilet, and other necessities. Unforseen spending later, (under 200 bucks, really, so we got out cheap, but it was still not budgeted for) there is, once again, a toilet in our new bathroom.
Well, if we have to move for any reason, we can advertise it as having "all new fixtures" in the bath. I don't want to move, this house has ahold of my soul.
Now to the livingroom carpet. Remember the carpet dream? Well, it was partially prophetic - that horrible carpet was on a pad that was either glued down or that degraded in a manner most foul. We've been scraping for two days, and we only have 1/3 of the floor exposed. I see refinishing in my future - but, at least, not sanding. Scrubbing, on hands and knees, and revarnishing, but no sanding in this room, at least.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
The Clock is Ticking
We are supposed to be moved in, at least enough to to consider ourselves to be residing in our house, by the time my older son returns from Texas. We have until the 9th.
Tick, tick, tick...
Understandably, between this and the heatwave, I've stopped sleeping. I decided, therefore, to get out of bed at 4 am and go paint my living room. It seemed like a ggod idea, and lo, by 8 am, there was a successful paintjob, even if I had to stop and patch a couple of cracks I hadn't fixed yet, mid-painting. Our living room now only requires the border papers (2 hours) and removal of the Vile Pea-Green Shag Carpet (however long it takes, I'll enjoy every ripping, wrenching moment).
It already looks Really Nice. The greys I picked really set off the cherry-stained woodwork, and the wood floor, once completely revealed, should just make it that much more wonderful.
tick
I still have work to do on the bath, but it should be in its temporary usable stage by Thursday night. Toilet, sink, tub, cheap plastic temporary flooring... Not lovely, but a place to go. A water-resistant place, at least, and that's always an improvement.
tick
I've decided to just Make Do with our bedroom. I can re-hang the window skirting board, patch what needs patching, and paint, paint, paint. We have Way Too Much To Do left to really make this livable before moving in (like patching in the floorboards where the curtain wall was, finishing the raw flooring in the former closet, resetting the mouldings, and pulling down the boards the acoustic tiels were stapled to) to worry about things like scraping out two rooms worth of hideous layered wallpaper. Unless it comes down Very Easily. I already pulled up the carpet, but put iback down to protect the floor from our construction.
tick
I Really Must finish the painting in the kitchen, for safety reasons. There's the old flaky wall that I'm still only halfway through scrubbing with a wire brush, which also needs patching (natch) as well as painting afterwards.
tick
Then, we have our Fabulous Debris Collection. It's been preventing work on the dining room (we won't even go there - we plan to get that mostly done AFTER number one son comes home) and the porch (which, mercifully, needs little work done) for two months. The dumpster finally arrives tomorrow morning. I await its appearance with ... cynicism. There's a reason we've been collecting debris for months, and it was a dumpster shortage. I really do hope we can get it, though.
Tick, tick, tick...
Tick, tick, tick...
Understandably, between this and the heatwave, I've stopped sleeping. I decided, therefore, to get out of bed at 4 am and go paint my living room. It seemed like a ggod idea, and lo, by 8 am, there was a successful paintjob, even if I had to stop and patch a couple of cracks I hadn't fixed yet, mid-painting. Our living room now only requires the border papers (2 hours) and removal of the Vile Pea-Green Shag Carpet (however long it takes, I'll enjoy every ripping, wrenching moment).
It already looks Really Nice. The greys I picked really set off the cherry-stained woodwork, and the wood floor, once completely revealed, should just make it that much more wonderful.
tick
I still have work to do on the bath, but it should be in its temporary usable stage by Thursday night. Toilet, sink, tub, cheap plastic temporary flooring... Not lovely, but a place to go. A water-resistant place, at least, and that's always an improvement.
tick
I've decided to just Make Do with our bedroom. I can re-hang the window skirting board, patch what needs patching, and paint, paint, paint. We have Way Too Much To Do left to really make this livable before moving in (like patching in the floorboards where the curtain wall was, finishing the raw flooring in the former closet, resetting the mouldings, and pulling down the boards the acoustic tiels were stapled to) to worry about things like scraping out two rooms worth of hideous layered wallpaper. Unless it comes down Very Easily. I already pulled up the carpet, but put iback down to protect the floor from our construction.
tick
I Really Must finish the painting in the kitchen, for safety reasons. There's the old flaky wall that I'm still only halfway through scrubbing with a wire brush, which also needs patching (natch) as well as painting afterwards.
tick
Then, we have our Fabulous Debris Collection. It's been preventing work on the dining room (we won't even go there - we plan to get that mostly done AFTER number one son comes home) and the porch (which, mercifully, needs little work done) for two months. The dumpster finally arrives tomorrow morning. I await its appearance with ... cynicism. There's a reason we've been collecting debris for months, and it was a dumpster shortage. I really do hope we can get it, though.
Tick, tick, tick...
Sunday, July 16, 2006
bathroom demo complete, plus bonus wound report
Look, the idiot is dancing again. But this time, she is limping.
The good news: the bath demo is done! The tiny tub (very HEAVY but also tiny) is out, and awaiting removal* in our otherwise empty living room. The appallingly designed, 1970's, also tiny (below crotch level on a small woman), sink vanity was ripped out (and destroyed) with glee yesterday. The sink and bath had a strange synergy going - the tub is a wave-front, streamline designed built-in tub, and the vanity was a flat-sided box that was installed rightupagainst the tub, leaving a little pocket between the head of the tub and the side of the vanity, where water and a half dozen washcloths had gathered over the years.
Not surprisingly, I had to rip out several punky floorboards, but the subfloor is very intact, which means that patching that spot on the floor before installing the tilebacker is going to be a piece of cake (all supply lines run through the wall, so no cutouts even need to be made!). Yuck, but fixable. AND - no termite damage, just old mold rot, which is now well dried out (the house was not lived in for 2 years before we bought it and we didn't use the tub or sink at all) and gone.
All the Vile Stinky Tile Adhesive came down with the plaster coat it had been attached to. The bare lath looks a heck of a lot better, and smells better too. Funny how much bigger the little room looks when it's empty...
We have elected to keep the old, high-flow toilet, as we like it, but it's getting pulled gently and set aside until the hardibacker is laid and skimmed.
The plumbing is demoed, too, so now we know what we need to get - and what we forgot to get. Like the tub overflow valve...and the drain pipe parts. Nothing quite like discovering you forgot to get something essential when elbows deep in a job. Sigh. We also have nowhere to go when working on the house. Well, I have nowhere to go. For the guys, there are plenty of trees in the backyard...
The bath wiring is also complete - J was putting in the two new GFI outlets as we left last night. The box for the wall fixture was put in, and the ceiling fixture was pulled out (even if it's nice, I really don't need to climb 9 feet up to screw around with a wet fixture to change bulbs in the middle of the night). The hole will probably end up holding a through-attic vent, since the enclosed back porch covers the only window.
That window opens, but it hinges open against the showerhead. The window predates any shower in that bath, so it's a matter of old laziness (I think the PPO, when they fixed the house up for sale in 1949). I say this as it is an easy fix - swap the hinges and latch from one side to the other. I want to pull and strip the hardware anyway, so why not fix this issue now?
We have also come to a decision about the 1940's - 1950's medicine cabinet - we're selling it. We'll put in either the original cabinet (found under the bay addition, and in need of restoration) or an equivalent repro. Craftsman-style wall cabinets are popular and can be had fairly cheaply these days, so it comes down to whichever is the less expensive option for now.
Now, we get to the limping part. I caught my shoe on a multi nailed scrap yesterday, and thinking I had shaken it off, put weight on my foot. No such luck - it had caught me and I got punctured. My foot HURTS, but the nail was a clean one, I've had a Tetanus shot in the past few years (in '99) and we have a first aid kit handy. My foot still hurts, though. I'll live.
* This gets mentioned last. My husband was theorizing yesterday about uses for the ex-tub. Like a fishpond, or planter. In the yard. I think he's pulling my chain. I hope he's pulling my chain. I'm all about reuse, but that's a little rednecky, even for me.
Here's an example of his sense of humor:
My advice? Don't sit on the smudged lid of a spackle can in black pants when he's around ... whether he has a camera or not.
The good news: the bath demo is done! The tiny tub (very HEAVY but also tiny) is out, and awaiting removal* in our otherwise empty living room. The appallingly designed, 1970's, also tiny (below crotch level on a small woman), sink vanity was ripped out (and destroyed) with glee yesterday. The sink and bath had a strange synergy going - the tub is a wave-front, streamline designed built-in tub, and the vanity was a flat-sided box that was installed rightupagainst the tub, leaving a little pocket between the head of the tub and the side of the vanity, where water and a half dozen washcloths had gathered over the years.
Not surprisingly, I had to rip out several punky floorboards, but the subfloor is very intact, which means that patching that spot on the floor before installing the tilebacker is going to be a piece of cake (all supply lines run through the wall, so no cutouts even need to be made!). Yuck, but fixable. AND - no termite damage, just old mold rot, which is now well dried out (the house was not lived in for 2 years before we bought it and we didn't use the tub or sink at all) and gone.
All the Vile Stinky Tile Adhesive came down with the plaster coat it had been attached to. The bare lath looks a heck of a lot better, and smells better too. Funny how much bigger the little room looks when it's empty...
We have elected to keep the old, high-flow toilet, as we like it, but it's getting pulled gently and set aside until the hardibacker is laid and skimmed.
The plumbing is demoed, too, so now we know what we need to get - and what we forgot to get. Like the tub overflow valve...and the drain pipe parts. Nothing quite like discovering you forgot to get something essential when elbows deep in a job. Sigh. We also have nowhere to go when working on the house. Well, I have nowhere to go. For the guys, there are plenty of trees in the backyard...
The bath wiring is also complete - J was putting in the two new GFI outlets as we left last night. The box for the wall fixture was put in, and the ceiling fixture was pulled out (even if it's nice, I really don't need to climb 9 feet up to screw around with a wet fixture to change bulbs in the middle of the night). The hole will probably end up holding a through-attic vent, since the enclosed back porch covers the only window.
That window opens, but it hinges open against the showerhead. The window predates any shower in that bath, so it's a matter of old laziness (I think the PPO, when they fixed the house up for sale in 1949). I say this as it is an easy fix - swap the hinges and latch from one side to the other. I want to pull and strip the hardware anyway, so why not fix this issue now?
We have also come to a decision about the 1940's - 1950's medicine cabinet - we're selling it. We'll put in either the original cabinet (found under the bay addition, and in need of restoration) or an equivalent repro. Craftsman-style wall cabinets are popular and can be had fairly cheaply these days, so it comes down to whichever is the less expensive option for now.
Now, we get to the limping part. I caught my shoe on a multi nailed scrap yesterday, and thinking I had shaken it off, put weight on my foot. No such luck - it had caught me and I got punctured. My foot HURTS, but the nail was a clean one, I've had a Tetanus shot in the past few years (in '99) and we have a first aid kit handy. My foot still hurts, though. I'll live.
* This gets mentioned last. My husband was theorizing yesterday about uses for the ex-tub. Like a fishpond, or planter. In the yard. I think he's pulling my chain. I hope he's pulling my chain. I'm all about reuse, but that's a little rednecky, even for me.
Here's an example of his sense of humor:
My advice? Don't sit on the smudged lid of a spackle can in black pants when he's around ... whether he has a camera or not.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Dancing Idiot has a Baby. Film at 11.
Well, I'm now off bedrest - the baby is here. James Edward was born Jume 17th at 2 am on the dot, preceded by much screaming and accompanied by a great deal of relief. He's doing great, and so am I ... now.
It's been almost 3 weeks since then and I've finally gotten back into the house (first because of the bedrest and then the postpartum healing/in-law visits) to do a bit of work. I did actually get a few things done this afternoon, between removing the old storm door from what is now an interior doorway and wandering around the house a lot. I also got some progress made on my older son's bedroom murals, after discovering that the midnight blue mismix we bought for his ceiling had been mismarked, too. It's lavender. I guess I can figure out a use for a pint of lavender paint, but I was thwarted in my plans for the day.
"Oh, poor me, I'll have to go to the home store again for supplies. Whatever shall I do?"
Also, our sainted freind and electrical engineer J got the wiring/box/etc in place for the power company to come in and do the meter and service upgrade. That's tomorrow. I'm doing a happy dance, but that doesn't translate well in print. This is a good thing, as I look like an idiot - a happy idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.
The bad: we've discovered that the drainpipe from the kitchen sink needs replacement, in a rather unfortunate way - it fell off. Well, better to have found that out before we do all the other plumbing work, no? We plan to do that stuff next week, and I think we can fit a bit more PVC pipe into the budget. We'll have to, or no move-in before FX gets back from visiting our relations in Texas.
It's been almost 3 weeks since then and I've finally gotten back into the house (first because of the bedrest and then the postpartum healing/in-law visits) to do a bit of work. I did actually get a few things done this afternoon, between removing the old storm door from what is now an interior doorway and wandering around the house a lot. I also got some progress made on my older son's bedroom murals, after discovering that the midnight blue mismix we bought for his ceiling had been mismarked, too. It's lavender. I guess I can figure out a use for a pint of lavender paint, but I was thwarted in my plans for the day.
"Oh, poor me, I'll have to go to the home store again for supplies. Whatever shall I do?"
Also, our sainted freind and electrical engineer J got the wiring/box/etc in place for the power company to come in and do the meter and service upgrade. That's tomorrow. I'm doing a happy dance, but that doesn't translate well in print. This is a good thing, as I look like an idiot - a happy idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.
The bad: we've discovered that the drainpipe from the kitchen sink needs replacement, in a rather unfortunate way - it fell off. Well, better to have found that out before we do all the other plumbing work, no? We plan to do that stuff next week, and I think we can fit a bit more PVC pipe into the budget. We'll have to, or no move-in before FX gets back from visiting our relations in Texas.
Monday, May 29, 2006
houseblogger on bedrest = rehab nightmares
The absolute worst thing that can be done to a pregnant woman working on a house is putting her on bedrest. Especially if that bed is not IN the house she's working on. It's been almost three weeks now and I've been going insane. Obviously, I'm worried that we won't get the house done enough to live in before Baby 2 arrives, but I had begun to adjust to the idea of it.
I'm also worried that I've lost my housefixing muscles. Then there are all the unfinished projects to avoid thinking about. AND I'm worried, constantly, unreasonably, about the house. I have nightmares, of the late pregnancy variety, except they are all about the house.
Examples:
The carpeting dream. I dreamt that when we pulled up the carpet in the house, to reveal the lovely floors, there was more carpet, patchy, 1970's psychedelic, stained carpet, underneath. Shag, indoor/outdoor, etc. Like six layers. And under that was hideous linoleum. The last layer was glued down with construction cement that laid in huge blobs on the formerly pristine wood floors. I woke in a sweat, and spent several minutes calming myself down by recalling that I'd peeled up carpet corners all over the house just to assess the condition of the floors.
Next, the fire dream. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's had this dream during the rehab of an older house. I put it down to it being rewired and my being forced to not go out enough to be reassured by the house's quiet, unbothered appearance as I go by.
I've been tempted to get up and drive over to check on it more than once, though.
The flood dream. We've had lots of rain this spring, like most everyone else. The old dryer exhaust tends to collect water in rainstorms (this is on the List of Things to Fix), which isn't a problem as our cellar floor is actually graded to drain towards the drain on the downhill side of the house, and that water is a fairly small amount. But, I keep dreaming that the whole basement will fill with mud and water like a huge swimming pool, followed by the collapse of the house into the muck.
The vermin dream. Just a simple ick-factor dream, about finding a sudden, massive termite/ant/cockroach/rat/mouse/etc infestation that causes the house to become irreparably uninhabitable.
Augh. I'm off meds and bedrest on Thursday. Maybe I'll stop with the crazy, if I can at least get over there and finish painting the boy's room.
I'm also worried that I've lost my housefixing muscles. Then there are all the unfinished projects to avoid thinking about. AND I'm worried, constantly, unreasonably, about the house. I have nightmares, of the late pregnancy variety, except they are all about the house.
Examples:
Next, the fire dream. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's had this dream during the rehab of an older house. I put it down to it being rewired and my being forced to not go out enough to be reassured by the house's quiet, unbothered appearance as I go by.
I've been tempted to get up and drive over to check on it more than once, though.
The flood dream. We've had lots of rain this spring, like most everyone else. The old dryer exhaust tends to collect water in rainstorms (this is on the List of Things to Fix), which isn't a problem as our cellar floor is actually graded to drain towards the drain on the downhill side of the house, and that water is a fairly small amount. But, I keep dreaming that the whole basement will fill with mud and water like a huge swimming pool, followed by the collapse of the house into the muck.
The vermin dream. Just a simple ick-factor dream, about finding a sudden, massive termite/ant/cockroach/rat/mouse/etc infestation that causes the house to become irreparably uninhabitable.
Augh. I'm off meds and bedrest on Thursday. Maybe I'll stop with the crazy, if I can at least get over there and finish painting the boy's room.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Pictures, and progress.
Or is that "Pictures of Progress?" I'm not sure. Anyhow, here are some images of what I've been ranting about recently. Updates to my in-progress phots are here.
First, I was talking about filling in the open archway between what had been originally intended as a den and the dining room, so that my son could have some privacy (and so that we could make use of otherwise wasted space). I wanted to do something really Stickley-style, like a fabulous built-in. We really don't have the money for that and all the other things we need to do first, so I had to figure out how to do this in a sympathetic, period looking style without spending any real money, as well as doing a temporary thing.
Why temporary? Well, in five or so years, we plan to have two bedrooms and a bath built in the cellar, for the boys, as well as a completely finished laundry room, workspace, and finsihed storage areas. When that happens, we can turn our den back into a den, and I'd like to be able to put in abbreviated Craftsman-style cabinets with square pillars inside that archway. So anything we do now is just set dressing.
Here's the before pic, with the PO's non-sympathetic solution (vinyl accordion curtains):
This is taken from the dining room, looking west into the den (my son's bedroom). Not pretty, but it worked for the PO, an elderly woman in need of constant care.
Now, a series of on-the-way-to-after pictures, taken from the same vantage point:
This is a demo-in-progress image of the dining room bay addition. It's slightly less ugly right now, but we have some fairly major work to do here. First, we are going to put in posts and a support beam, as you can see some bowing where the bay was cut into the wall. There will be four posts, two at the ends, mounted flush to the walls, and two set in about 2' from the ends to create an open but divided space. There will be wainscot panels done in the same style as the archway fill-in in the bay, from the corners and under the windows, a built-in bookshelf under the center short window, and I'm going to build two window seats into the otherwise wasted space in the ends of the bay as well. I think this will all work together with the built-in panel in the arch, to increase the "Craftsman" feel of the house. I see a larger can of Minwax Polyshades in my future.
Now for the view from my son's room:
These are all shots of the part of the paintjob that had to be done before I could get back to cutting and screwing things up ... er ... together. There will be clouds painted on the walls, and the ceiling will be a deeper, more vibrant blue with stars and a moon on it. I'm debating painting in a wainscot strip with related, A&C type elements. That will probably depend on the time available before we move in.
And, I still need a radio. The talking to myself is really out of hand. I've been talking to my tools ... more than usual.
First, I was talking about filling in the open archway between what had been originally intended as a den and the dining room, so that my son could have some privacy (and so that we could make use of otherwise wasted space). I wanted to do something really Stickley-style, like a fabulous built-in. We really don't have the money for that and all the other things we need to do first, so I had to figure out how to do this in a sympathetic, period looking style without spending any real money, as well as doing a temporary thing.
Why temporary? Well, in five or so years, we plan to have two bedrooms and a bath built in the cellar, for the boys, as well as a completely finished laundry room, workspace, and finsihed storage areas. When that happens, we can turn our den back into a den, and I'd like to be able to put in abbreviated Craftsman-style cabinets with square pillars inside that archway. So anything we do now is just set dressing.
Here's the before pic, with the PO's non-sympathetic solution (vinyl accordion curtains):
This is taken from the dining room, looking west into the den (my son's bedroom). Not pretty, but it worked for the PO, an elderly woman in need of constant care.
Now, a series of on-the-way-to-after pictures, taken from the same vantage point:
This is a demo-in-progress image of the dining room bay addition. It's slightly less ugly right now, but we have some fairly major work to do here. First, we are going to put in posts and a support beam, as you can see some bowing where the bay was cut into the wall. There will be four posts, two at the ends, mounted flush to the walls, and two set in about 2' from the ends to create an open but divided space. There will be wainscot panels done in the same style as the archway fill-in in the bay, from the corners and under the windows, a built-in bookshelf under the center short window, and I'm going to build two window seats into the otherwise wasted space in the ends of the bay as well. I think this will all work together with the built-in panel in the arch, to increase the "Craftsman" feel of the house. I see a larger can of Minwax Polyshades in my future.
Now for the view from my son's room:
These are all shots of the part of the paintjob that had to be done before I could get back to cutting and screwing things up ... er ... together. There will be clouds painted on the walls, and the ceiling will be a deeper, more vibrant blue with stars and a moon on it. I'm debating painting in a wainscot strip with related, A&C type elements. That will probably depend on the time available before we move in.
And, I still need a radio. The talking to myself is really out of hand. I've been talking to my tools ... more than usual.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
House Rehab Illustrated
I finally remembered to bring the camera. Included herein are images of the kitchen, so far; before/after images of the front door; some cool Basement Archaeology shots; and other things, with my typical boring narration. Oh, and please pardon our dust and construction debris. Everywhere.
And Now, to the Pictures!
First, the kitchen, before:
Bleh. Notice the grimy blue carpet. It's glued down ... with wood glue.
and so far:
The cabinets are being painted flat black (blackboard paint), with silver lower doors, and Safety Red drawers and upper doors. I cleaned the chromed handles, which are all the same for the main bank of cabinets (BTW, magic eraser sponges work great for this, with a bit of degreaser for the greasy parts - my friend K. thought I had replated them!), then picked out the six most worn ones and sprayed them black with epoxy paint. Those six went on the matte silver doors, and the cleaned chrome ones look wonderful against the red painted drawers.
We plan to do the same to the sink cabinet, but it involves a bit more work to take apart. Plus we need to buy more paint...
I am really loving how the cheapo sticky tiles are making the old floor look larger. It's not ideal, and not period to the house, but we'll have a kitchen we can enjoy until we can do better.
And now, the Original Front Door (now the living room interior door), with Icky Kwiky goldtone lockset:
and without:
The paint is pretty bad, yes, but cleaning the hardware and making it pretty can wait until we're in the house. Removing the offending modern lockset prior to moving in could not wait. And it still looks better than it did.
I'm no Indiana Jones, but I did discover some cool stuff in the cellar.
For example, when you look up and you aren't busy being terrified by Horrible Old Wiring, you can find some bizarre things, like an old Esso sign being used to fit the new ductwork under the original coal furnace heat vent:
Plus, I think the part that was cut out is leaning against a wall elsewhere. Neat.
Now, I know it's not cellar related, but do you remember these?
Anyway, those panels? They're made of another old sign:
I think the rest of it has been used to make the interior cellar door solid, and that's a whole entry all by itself. Anyway, get a load of the name - "Critic Feeds" :D
Back to creeping around in the basement. I stuck the camera through a hole I punched in the plastic stapled over the access to the foundation of the dining room bay, adn I took some photos, to see what was there.
I found an old porch swing and some mouldings:
and what probably happened to parts of the original kitchen cabinets:
Yep, that's what they are. I don't think they are salvageable. Makes you sad, too, doesn't it? At least I will have references to use when we do get around to doing the Big Kitchen Renovation.
And finally, to close, here's a couple of images of the old (but not original) coal furnace:
More photos later, but this is a good start. I still haven't found any stamping, but I'm too pregnant to fit through the attic access panel, which is where i'm most liekly to find marks.
And Now, to the Pictures!
First, the kitchen, before:
Bleh. Notice the grimy blue carpet. It's glued down ... with wood glue.
and so far:
The cabinets are being painted flat black (blackboard paint), with silver lower doors, and Safety Red drawers and upper doors. I cleaned the chromed handles, which are all the same for the main bank of cabinets (BTW, magic eraser sponges work great for this, with a bit of degreaser for the greasy parts - my friend K. thought I had replated them!), then picked out the six most worn ones and sprayed them black with epoxy paint. Those six went on the matte silver doors, and the cleaned chrome ones look wonderful against the red painted drawers.
We plan to do the same to the sink cabinet, but it involves a bit more work to take apart. Plus we need to buy more paint...
I am really loving how the cheapo sticky tiles are making the old floor look larger. It's not ideal, and not period to the house, but we'll have a kitchen we can enjoy until we can do better.
And now, the Original Front Door (now the living room interior door), with Icky Kwiky goldtone lockset:
and without:
The paint is pretty bad, yes, but cleaning the hardware and making it pretty can wait until we're in the house. Removing the offending modern lockset prior to moving in could not wait. And it still looks better than it did.
I'm no Indiana Jones, but I did discover some cool stuff in the cellar.
For example, when you look up and you aren't busy being terrified by Horrible Old Wiring, you can find some bizarre things, like an old Esso sign being used to fit the new ductwork under the original coal furnace heat vent:
Plus, I think the part that was cut out is leaning against a wall elsewhere. Neat.
Now, I know it's not cellar related, but do you remember these?
Anyway, those panels? They're made of another old sign:
I think the rest of it has been used to make the interior cellar door solid, and that's a whole entry all by itself. Anyway, get a load of the name - "Critic Feeds" :D
Back to creeping around in the basement. I stuck the camera through a hole I punched in the plastic stapled over the access to the foundation of the dining room bay, adn I took some photos, to see what was there.
I found an old porch swing and some mouldings:
and what probably happened to parts of the original kitchen cabinets:
Yep, that's what they are. I don't think they are salvageable. Makes you sad, too, doesn't it? At least I will have references to use when we do get around to doing the Big Kitchen Renovation.
And finally, to close, here's a couple of images of the old (but not original) coal furnace:
More photos later, but this is a good start. I still haven't found any stamping, but I'm too pregnant to fit through the attic access panel, which is where i'm most liekly to find marks.
Lockset Archaeology, plus more working lights!
We spent yesterday continuing with the electrical work and moving original parts of the house around. Now, thanks to our Wonderful Freinds, we have a hallway light fixture, and my son's room has light, and things are really moving along that way. So well, in fact, that we need to buy some more wire :)
However, Chris and I did stuff not related to electrical work. We went looking for various bits of hardware that had been relocated over the years and tried to put it back. This kind of thing is one of my favorite rehab activities - I get to play archaeologist.
I was started on that path because our original (now interior, as our porch was enclosed 10 years ago) front door had had its lockset and attendant hardware removed and replaced with a modern Kwikset lockset (YUCK! I despise shiny yellow goldtone) sometime in the last 30-odd years. There have not been any keys for that lockset for nearly 15 years (according to the PO), so we were going to have to remove it, no matter what, and replace it with something that our 3-year-old can't use to permanently exclude us from the house.
I thought of something odd I had seen on the (now interior - also has a now-enclosed porch) back door, involving a knob/key plate that didn't look like it was set right. It looked too large, and the interior one, while smaller, was still larger than the rest of the interior plates. This matched up nicely with the scars on the front door, as did the edge face of the lockset, once we removed the Icky Kwicky lockset and knobs. I delightedly disinstalled the relocated mortise lockset and brought it into the living room, where Chris was working on the door.
Chris observed that the latch was going the wrong way, and said that this must not be the right set. I pointed out that somebody had clearly disassembled the lockbox and removed the deadbolt (I'm guessing about the time the key disappeared) and the button stops (privacy knob-locks). It looks very similar to this repro mortise lockset, but is made of iron with steel working parts. Chris then unscrewed the two screws, pulled out the latch and flipped it over, and put it all back together. After all that, it worked fine and tapped into its original hole perfectly. We still have to strip off the eighty-one billion layers of old paint from the plates, and then refinish them and the knobs, but it already looks a million times better.
Yes, our internal kitchen/back door is now without knobs, but I know where its originals went (and plan to harvest them and replace them), and the latch hadn't lined up with the (wrong) strikeplate for decades anyway. It had locked with first a twist bolt (since painted into oblivion) and then a small surface bolt for ages and ages.
I have ambitous plans for relocating various doors throughout the house so they are more useful (such as the all-glass basement entry and its lovely old wood-framed screen door, the current interior kitchen rear door, and the old kitchen/hall door). There are two non-original, but clearly older, doors that are going to go away to more appropriate homes once the doorway shuffling is complete.
There's also some strangely located edge molding that was stuck into the cellar stair doorway in addition to the stop molding. For no good reason. That will also be removed, stripped and reused in one of the several places such molding was yanked out. But it can wait. Next winter, maybe...
As for future plans, anyone have shellacking or varnishing tips for me? I'll need to coat the cleaned door/window hardware to make it match any non-painted stuff that still exists in the house, as all the hardware was in place when the wood was finished, with shellac. And our windows in the dining room bay need to be refinished, as there's old water damage from before the storm windows went on.
Why is it, that as soon as a task gets struck from the list, two more spring up to take its place?
However, Chris and I did stuff not related to electrical work. We went looking for various bits of hardware that had been relocated over the years and tried to put it back. This kind of thing is one of my favorite rehab activities - I get to play archaeologist.
I was started on that path because our original (now interior, as our porch was enclosed 10 years ago) front door had had its lockset and attendant hardware removed and replaced with a modern Kwikset lockset (YUCK! I despise shiny yellow goldtone) sometime in the last 30-odd years. There have not been any keys for that lockset for nearly 15 years (according to the PO), so we were going to have to remove it, no matter what, and replace it with something that our 3-year-old can't use to permanently exclude us from the house.
I thought of something odd I had seen on the (now interior - also has a now-enclosed porch) back door, involving a knob/key plate that didn't look like it was set right. It looked too large, and the interior one, while smaller, was still larger than the rest of the interior plates. This matched up nicely with the scars on the front door, as did the edge face of the lockset, once we removed the Icky Kwicky lockset and knobs. I delightedly disinstalled the relocated mortise lockset and brought it into the living room, where Chris was working on the door.
Chris observed that the latch was going the wrong way, and said that this must not be the right set. I pointed out that somebody had clearly disassembled the lockbox and removed the deadbolt (I'm guessing about the time the key disappeared) and the button stops (privacy knob-locks). It looks very similar to this repro mortise lockset, but is made of iron with steel working parts. Chris then unscrewed the two screws, pulled out the latch and flipped it over, and put it all back together. After all that, it worked fine and tapped into its original hole perfectly. We still have to strip off the eighty-one billion layers of old paint from the plates, and then refinish them and the knobs, but it already looks a million times better.
Yes, our internal kitchen/back door is now without knobs, but I know where its originals went (and plan to harvest them and replace them), and the latch hadn't lined up with the (wrong) strikeplate for decades anyway. It had locked with first a twist bolt (since painted into oblivion) and then a small surface bolt for ages and ages.
I have ambitous plans for relocating various doors throughout the house so they are more useful (such as the all-glass basement entry and its lovely old wood-framed screen door, the current interior kitchen rear door, and the old kitchen/hall door). There are two non-original, but clearly older, doors that are going to go away to more appropriate homes once the doorway shuffling is complete.
There's also some strangely located edge molding that was stuck into the cellar stair doorway in addition to the stop molding. For no good reason. That will also be removed, stripped and reused in one of the several places such molding was yanked out. But it can wait. Next winter, maybe...
As for future plans, anyone have shellacking or varnishing tips for me? I'll need to coat the cleaned door/window hardware to make it match any non-painted stuff that still exists in the house, as all the hardware was in place when the wood was finished, with shellac. And our windows in the dining room bay need to be refinished, as there's old water damage from before the storm windows went on.
Why is it, that as soon as a task gets struck from the list, two more spring up to take its place?
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