We gratefully — while away on vacation in Canada — missed two weeks of noise, dirt and dust while the crew demolished our 30+ year-old kitchen, with its ugly molding, not-nice wooden cabinets and peeling tile floor.
Gone is the dishwasher whose replacement basket, (can you say rip-off?!) would have cost us $300. Gone is the chipped porcelain sink. Gone is the complete lack of a place to safely and cleanly stow garbage; we now have a slide-out bin with two containers.
We still await the installation of: counters, sink and faucet, outlets and the staining and finishing of the floor. And we got herringbone flooring, as my heart had fervently desired, a gift from the contractor who scored it for a fraction of the original price.
The crew of two, both Turkish, speak Turkish to one another and step onto the balcony to have a cigarette or make a phone call. They work crazy hard with no breaks. One, Mike, did our bathroom four years ago and it’s good to have someone I know, like and trust with me in my home all day.
I’m honored that Mike, whose career expertise is working with tile, (and these guys normally work on much larger and wealthier projects than ours), loved my tile choice. Yay!
The workmanship is terrific — the wooden drawers slide smoothly and stop slowly and firmly. When I noticed a 1/8th of an inch (probably less) difference in one, it was fixed within seconds. We could have saved some money by buying Ikea cabinets, but I wanted exactly what I wanted, and the smooth, solid, heavy wood, with dovetailed drawers, made to our exact specifications, feels good.
It’s helpful to actually be here now, as a few surprises showed up — like the installation of the wrong accent tile. The right tile arrived and is even prettier than I’d hoped.
It is both gratifying and terrifying to watch my design — even road-tested with 3D scale models — come into full color and shape. A lovely surprise? The insets which replace drawer handles reflect daylight from the nearby windows. So does the glossy, creamy tile, making the small, narrow room much brighter than before.
Here are some photos of it…the final blog post will be the Big Reveal.
You can see the herringbone floor; gray-green cabinets (which will not have exterior hardware); the stove; wall tile (yet ungrouted), and the space where the accent tile will go.
This is the cost of doing business…a corner of our living room filled with tools for the duration.
And there goes our balcony…needed as a place to cut tile. Mike did it there — in February! — last time.
With his permission, Mike…and the sink side of the kitchen.
There will be three of these Restoration Hardware sconces, each 10″ in diameter. An unpleasant surprise? The illustration on the RH website shows a lovely glow — but not the fact that the bulb protrudes and is visible.
Here’s my lovely husband making a silly face as he grills a week’s worth of meat on our balcony — with our table as a windbreak.
The apartment has been in chaos for weeks, as we excitedly (and too early) emptied all our cupboards in preparation for the work to begin. But because we live in a co-op apartment building, we have to submit a ream of paperwork and get it approved before any hammers can swing.
It will probably start next week, when we are (blessedly) far away from the noise and dust of demolition for a bit.
But I’ve already learned a few lessons useful to anyone considering a reno.
Each one ends in “ive”!
Every single item that is going to be bought, re-used or replaced in your new room needs to be measured carefully and ordered, sometimes weeks or months in advance, so it’s right at hand when the workmen arrive and are now on a timeline.
To mess! Our living room and hallway are now a staging area, full of boxes of our stuff and boxes of the new items yet to be installed. The place is going to be nuts for a while. Focus on how gorgeous it will be when it’s all done.
Make a punch list of every single element going into the new room or space and what is needed to have it safely and legally installed. This includes: lighting, outlets, faucet, tile, counter-tops, flooring, appliances, paint, primer, grout, hardware, etc. With so many details, it’s easy to get overwhelmed and forget something along the way.
Keep checking in with your suppliers and contractor to make sure they, too, are on top of everything and have agreed — in writing — to your explicit wishes. If there are points of disagreement, you’ll need a paper trail.
This is one of the most tiring pieces of committing to a renovation project, endless, daily, sometimes several times a day, decisions that must be made quickly — and permanently. (Change orders are really expensive and your contractor may hate you for making them, or — worse — bail since s/he always has a list of other clients awaiting his crew’s attention as well. Make a plan and stick with it.)
After designing our kitchen’s entire color scheme around the cream enamel panel of the Italian stove we’d chosen that color was discontinued by the time we ordered it. Shriek! I had to suddenly decide what to do, (fine, stainless steel, boring), and not freak out or rethink all the other choices and start again from scratch.
I don’t have time to do all of this twice. Most of us don’t.
You have to decide on a budget and then make every decision to fit within it, (or exceed it, and decide how you’ll handle that additional cost.) It’s tiring! And since most of us have never studied design and rarely spend tens of thousands of dollars (even thousands) within a few weeks, it’s a lot to handle.
If you really want something to happen a certain way, or want a very specific product or material, say so!
No one can, or wants to, read your mind and it’s up to you, (or the architect/designer you’ve hired), to be very clear and specific with your contractor about what you have in mind. Don’t hand-flap and sigh and walk away in frustration. Some things will fall through. There will be some surprises, and almost all of them add expense — yours!
I went through three contractors to find the one we’re now working with, for the second time. The first two seemed to take personal offense at my custom designs. It’s your home, your taste and your budget. Trust your contractor to offer smart and helpful options, but don’t be afraid to say no if it really isn’t what you want.
This is the other half of being decisive. In the middle (!) of writing this post, my husband called to ask me to read yet another email and write yet another email to the contractor. Gah! Has to be done.
I’ve probably answered half a dozen emails, so far, from the contractor and I do so promptly. We’re all busy and all juggling multiple projects. You should also expect this from him/her as well.
Very few of us have an unlimited budget or space or timeline for The Perfect Renovation. How can you work most creatively within your space and budget?
Our kitchen is really small, (eight feet long, galley kitchen, no outlet for a stove hood), and our pantry is literally a narrow, tiny closet. We may not buy a microwave, which some people would insist is a must. Not for us; I’ve never owned one so feel no compulsion to have one just because we’re getting a new kitchen. It’s just as cramped as it was before!
We also moved a china cabinet from one room to another and are changing its purpose — we’ll use it to hide ugly cans and bottles and supplies, while we transfer pretty plates, glasses and platters to our new open shelves.
We were also able to reduce the quote by offering to prime and paint our cabinets and walls and by bartering my husband’s photography skills for the contractor — who always needs professional images for his website. That alone saved us $2,000.
I feel like I’m now surgically attached to our measuring tapes! I know the height of the sconces, the height of the legs for the holders for our platters, the width of our shelves…
Oh, yeah. Assume that whatever you’ve budgeted is an amusing-but-naive attempt. Unless (lucky you!) you are a multi-skilled DIYer (electrical and plumbing work? tiles?), you’ll be paying other people considerable coin to bring their skills into your home. Tiles, stone, flooring, lighting, cabinet handles…it all adds up.
Sighed our contractor: “Those TV design shows make me crazy! They never include the true costs of this stuff. I have to keep explaining this to clients every time.”
Agreed our saleswoman at our tile/stone vendor, “You know Houzz? Forget it! Clients come in here wanting exactly what they saw in a picture there, but a lot of it is custom work. They have no idea that how expensive it is.”