Monday, November 09, 2015

House Projects: Kitchen Demo

We've had a busy few weeks around here. The big news is that we've begun demolition on our lovely brown kitchen. There is no turning back now, peeps.

Ours is long galley kitchen with the sink/dishwasher/fridge on one side and the stove on the other:


The opposite wall:


We've got grand plans for this kitchen, mostly because we want to open up the wall that leads to the dining room and put in a small bar with seating. Here is our dining room before demo:


That wall to the left of the pink plastic-covered doorway is going to disappear.

Sealing the dining room from the rest of the house:

I did most of the packing while Emma was napping. This was a perfect excuse to clean out the pantry. Stewed greens beans from 2012? Gone!


And then we got busy with the hammer and crow bar.



We tried to give away our chocolate brown stove and almond dishwasher on Craigslist. Not a single person was interested. boo. Off to the recycle plant.


We knew at the beginning that the lath and plaster walls were going to be the biggest job. We've dealt with the walls in other parts of the home so we went into this with our eyes open...but it was still so. much. work. And filthy. When Chris pulled down the ceiling he was enveloped in a cloud of fine dust, spider webs, and rat poop.



But we are getting there. Last week was a humdinger. I'd do demo during Emma's naps and then Chris would hammer away for a few hours after work. And then we dropped into bed at 8:30 and slept like the dead.


Here is a shot looking into our dining room. Picture that right wall gone.


Chris' dad is in town and be advised that we put all guests right to work on house tasks. Welcome to our home, here is a hammer, please take thyself into the demo zone. All kidding aside, I can tell that Chris loves having his papa here to discuss plans and work on projects together. It's not quite like two kids in a candy shop but pretty darn close. They are so alike. In the best possible way. :)


The guys were working on the hvac system. No more recirculating fan for us! So now when I burn stuff the smell doesn't linger for days.


Here is our current puzzle. There is a tiny hidden door in the closet of my office that leads into the kitchen. It is beloved by kids and dogs as it makes the lower floor into a big 'circle'. Which is perfect if you're participating in a rousing game of chase-the-dog. All workmen that visit the house are delighted by the secret passageway. 



But for those of us that are normal (or taller than normal) height, it's a pain in the neck because you simultaneously have to stoop down and turn sideways in order to shimmy through the passage. Chris, at 6'5", has to turn himself into a human pretzel. 


So tonight we decided to plaster over the secret door and turn the closet back into a closet, rather than a passageway. And then we'll punch a more normal-sized opening directly from the kitchen into the office. 


It'll still be pretty narrow (about the same size as the closet entrance) but it won't have a door so we'll be able to pass through with relative ease. I'm hopeful that it'll open up the space and provide a more direct route into the kitchen. It'll be a lot of doors for a medium-sized room: the main entrance from the hall (not shown), the closet door (at left), the new entrance into the kitchen (in blue), and then our tiny little laundry chute door. All on one wall. 

We agonize over these big house decisions...I just hope we're happy with the end result.


In other news, Emma has become Bailey's biggest fan. And is absolutely convinced she should ride her pup around like a pet pony. The poor wee beast is not amused. 



I also found this picture at my parent's house. That's me, circa 1985. 


Ben looks like a mini-me. Same eyes, nose, and chubby cheeks. What do you think? Emma, on the other hand, is trending Chris' direction. 



Have a great week, peeps! We'll keep you updated on new kitchen progress. Next up: final wall removal, hvac work, and structural construction. Wish us luck. 

xo, 

Sonja