Mudroom Lockers

Well, we've reached a momentous point in our mudroom project.  The lockers are usable.  That may seem like a small thing, but for a family who have had no good place to store coats or backpacks for several weeks now, it is a wonderful thing to see a dining room chair with nothing hanging on it.  The one moment when I cleared all the coats off of the dining room chairs and the backpacks off of the dining room floor and hung everything up in its own dedicated space made me realize that I would never regret undertaking this project.  To a disorganized mom like myself, mudroom lockers are as a soothing balm to sun ravaged flesh.

Okay, maybe a little dramatic, but I can say that I really, really like having a mudroom!

Now, I said that they are usable, but they aren't finished.  Let me show you where we started, and how we got where we are so far.

This is the former entry room, taken from our kitchen.  The passage to the dining room is on the far right side of the picture, and the door to the side porch is on the other side of the entry, out of view on the left.

This is a closer look at the wall inside of the entry.  There used to be floor to ceiling cupboards here, but they were not well-designed or well-constructed, and they were covered in lead paint.  We had them removed during a lead abatement a few years ago.

The first thing that we did was to remove most of the wall that separated the entry from the kitchen.  This opened the area up a bit, and gave us about a foot more length of wall to work with.  Since space is at a premium here, that extra foot was desperately needed.

When we realized that there was no way that we would finish the lockers before school started, we hung up a two by four on the wall as a temporary measure to contain backpacks.  That vertical beige line is some very old wallpaper that was behind the wall that we removed.

 

Here's a side by side.

Now, there wasn't a lot of space to work with.  From left to right, there is 79 inches, and from the wall to the edge of the trap door is only 15 inches.  We would have to work within that footprint, which didn't leave room for any wasted space or luxurious elbowroom.

I did what I always do when I come up with an idea but am not sure how to make it work.  I pulled out my graph paper.

It may seem like a waste of time, but I need to know that something is going to work before I go tearing out walls or buying building supplies. Sketching out a basic layout reassured me that there would be enough space for four fairly comfortable lockers, at a reasonable height.  I also wanted to make use of the space above the lockers for some much needed dinnerware storage, so I sketched that out, as well, making sure that the cupboards would look good, be at a reasonable height (I don't want to climb a ladder every time the table is set), and be a useful size. This isn't a complete plan.  There have been a few changes along the way.  But the important thing is that we had a basic plan that we knew would work, before we even got started.

Jeff decided that it would be best to get the first set of cupboards up first.  They kind of defined the wall, and the rest of the unit could be built to fit around them.  We hung them a while ago, but we are waiting on the shelves and doors until the rest of the framework is in place.

Then we needed to finish the floor.

Finally, we were ready to tackle the lockers.  While we used the graph paper layout as a guide, we also have let the details change as inspiration comes.  I never liked the boxy look of straight dividers between lockers, and since each locker has only about a 19" width and 15"depth, I thought that the straight dividers would make it uncomfortable to sit and change from boots to slippers.  We could have done an open bench with a straight line of hooks on the wall, not unlike the picture above.  However, I liked the idea of individual lockers, because then everyone has (and is responsible for) their own space.  Plus, dividers would give us more hook space.  Then I thought, why not have partial wall dividers?  They could define each space, give adequate area to hang hooks toward the top, and yet open up around the elbows, giving more freedom of movement.  Plus, I had a feeling they would look better.

After explaining what I wanted to do to Jeff, he felt like we would have better luck using birch veneer plywood than the MDF that we had used up until now.  He got some advice and borrowed some tools, and asked me to make up a template.  Again, I went to my graph paper.

First, I figured out the total height from the floor to the bottom of the cupboards.  I determined the height of the bench by measuring the height of a chair seat, and subtracting an inch.  I didn't feel like it would be uncomfortable to sit a little lower than a dining chair, and I wanted as much room as possible for the locker space.  So I subtracted 17.5" from the total height.  Then I had to decide how much room to save for the cubbies that would go above the lockers.  I wanted it to be big enough to hold a 9.5"x11" notebook, or a few other things, none of which needed much space in height.  So I decided to make the cubbies about 6" high.  Then I subtracted the 6", as well as 1 3/4" to account for the thickness of the  top of the locker (3/4") and the top and bottom of the cubbies (1/2" each).  That left me with 36.5" of space between the "ceiling" of the locker and the top of the bench.

So, using the graph paper with each section=1", I started drawing my design.   A straight line representing the 36.5" tall back of the divider gave me a place to start.  I decided that I would like to have a little variation in depth between the different components of the unit, so I inset the locker space 2 inches from the total depth available.  That would allow me to do some fun stuff with crown-type trim.  So I drew a line out 13 squares at the top of the other line.  From there, I needed to figure out how low the widest part of the divider would need to be in order to hang hooks.  I thought that the hooks would work well about 4" from the top, and so I added another 3" below that, and drew down 7 spaces.  From there, going downward was really a matter of choice.  Now I needed to start from the bottom.  Along the bench, I wanted the dividers to give the impression that they are providing some support to the rest of the unit.  They don't, as everything is well secured to the studs, but I wanted it to look that way.  Therefore, I wanted the dividers to rest on the bench, and I decided that 6" would look about right.  From there, I decided to go up about 7.5".  Now I had a basic size and shape that would serve the purpose that it needed to serve.  The rest was just freehand shaping to connect the top section to the bottom section.  I'm no artist, but I gave it a whirl, made a few minor adjustments, and realized that I was lucky enough to have a shape that I liked.

Now, transferring that onto a large piece of wood was a different story.

However, because of the handy graph paper, it was pretty easy.  I marked all the dimensions of the shape.  When the line curved, I marked how many inches I needed to go to the left or right, and how many inches I needed to go up or down.  So when I took the paper to the wood, I was able to just use a ruler, mark a dot where the next stop in the line needed to be, and draw an easy curve from point a to point b.  It wasn't unlike completing a dot to dot puzzle, except that I had to map out where the next dot should be before I connected them.  Let me tell you, while it was a bit fussy to go through all those steps, it was so much easier than trying to freehand it all on a big piece of cardboard or wood.  If you're not visually artistic (as I am not), I can tell you that this method is helpful.

This is actually a piece that we didn't end up using.  I tried cutting it out with the borrowed jigsaw, but I didn't hold it straight up, so the cut edge was slanted.  Jeff would have let me try again, but I didn't want to waste the wood!  Instead, I held it down while Jeff cut them out.  After that, they just needed a few spots of wood filler and a good sanding to get the edge smooth.















Next, we needed to get the sides and top attached to the back, and then get the dividers attached.  We laid the back on the floor and marked out exactly where each divider would go, so that they would be evenly spaced.  Ugh.  There is so much math involved in building! Don't get me wrong;  it's very basic math.  But still!  I had to remember to subtract the thickness of the sides, and include the thickness of the dividers when determining how to center them.  My brain isn't used to considering all of those details. Dividing 32 7/8 by 2 and then marking the center, then marking half of the 3/4" thickness on either side of the center so that we could line the 3/4" thick dividers exactly where they needed to go.....Bah!  Oh well, I guess my 40 year old brain needs a tiny little workout now and then.

Finally, we were ready to put the pieces together.  This became a family affair.  Jacob helped me hold the top flush with the edge of the back while Jeff drilled holes and then screwed the pieces together.  Then came the sides, where Nora and Max stepped in to hold one side up while Jacob and I held the other side flush with both the back and top.  Then we switched.  Finally, the kids held the whole thing up while I held each divider in place while Jeff attached it.  Somewhere along the way, Jeff thought to try using the borrowed nail gun to hold each piece steady while he drilled the holes and attached the screws.  It worked like a charm.  It was far easier for us to hold everything flush while he popped a few nails in than against the force of the drill.  That's a lesson we won't forget.

Finally the basic structure was together.  And I was happy.

Next came the bench.  Jeff wanted it to be good and sturdy, so he decided to build a 2x4 frame that would rest on the floor and be bolted to the studs.  This is what he built.

Since the legs of the bench would be visible, we used 1/4" oak veneer plywood to "skin" the legs.  Why oak?  Because we had some left over from the piece that we covered the trap door with.  It was painful to paint it, but it needed to be done.

After adding some baseboard moulding (which I'll detail in a later post), adding some extra support for the hooks, and a bit of caulk here and there, everything got a coat of primer and two coats of paint.  Finally, we were able to attach the hooks and lay the first part of the bench down.  Until the rest of the bench is ready, I can't finish trimming it out, so I can't call it done yet.  But it is supremely usable, and to steal a phrase from that maven of home organization, that is a very good thing.

Progress!

Well, I mentioned last time that we had made some progress on our mudroom project.  It is true.  A while back (as in several months ago) we actually hung two of the five carcases.  For those who have never read the Time Life handyman series, specifically, the How-To-Build-Cupboards book, the carcase is the basic box that you put stuff into.  Without the shelves or doors.  I would say that they are quite a success.  And I would know, since I have had several months to look at them as they collect things with which we don't know what to do otherwise.  Perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on us.  One carcase is actually holding its intended occupants: our china, which came out of long-term storage in the basement recently.  Instead of packing it back up in newspaper, Jeff splurged for a whole set of storage bags for just this purpose.  I have been wanting some for quite a long time, but when I actually look at them in the store, I think, "There are lots of other things that I could spend this $20 on right now.  I'd better wait."  Silly, I know.  They come in handy!  I often pack up a set of dishes to take somewhere for a party or dinner held somewhere other than my house (which, we've established, is not party-ready, especially in the winter).  So it's nice to have a safe vessel in which to carry them.  However, the china is not meant to be stored in them, ultimately.  That would render worthless the glass doors that we will eventually attach to the carcases.  As I wait, though, I have been sufficiently assured that the cupboards are well supported and strong as can be.  My dishes will be safe when they reach their final resting place.

The cupboards are only a small part of the progress, though.  Our next step on this wall unit will be the "locker" space where the kids can hang up coats, backpacks and snowpants, with a space for wet boots and shoes under each locker, and cubby space above for storage of small items, like notebooks and umbrellas.  Since this part of the unit will stretch from the floor to the bottom of the cupboards, we needed to address the floor first.  We have always liked the look of slate, and we especially like that it is textured, thereby providing some protection from slipping.  Since we track lots of snow and rain into the entryway, we decided that slate was the way to go.

So in October, we bought the tiles.









*dead air*








And there they sat.  We had never laid tile before, see, so we were a bit lost as to what needed to be done.  Well, we knew the steps, but there's always this mental wall that keeps us from taking the next step.

Perhaps I am being too hard on us again.  This is no ordinary floor, and this would be no basic tile job.  Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of the floor the way it used to be.  I forgot to take the "before" picture.  But here's the thing:  there's a trap door in the middle of it.  It's the only access to the basement.  Up until we demo'd the room, there was an elaborate pulley system that spanned the wall, with old bleach jugs filled with sand acting as counterweights in the basement.  All we had to do was pull the rope down, and the door would lift up, allowing us entry.   Well, that brings up all kinds of issues.  We couldn't put tile on the door.  It would be far too heavy to lift, and the constant movement up and down probably wouldn't be good for the tile, anyway.  The whole floor used to be covered in linoleum.  Nice and lightweight.  But I hate linoleum.  And I wanted slate.  So we decided that we would just get a large rug and attach it to the door to cover up the fact that there is no tile there.  One problem solved.
However, there were a couple of other issues.  For one thing, the space between the exterior door and the basement trap door takes a rather steep dive.  It is highest by the exterior door, and I would say that it drops toward the basement door a good inch.  We were a little unsure about how to deal with that.  And finally, while we intend to continue the slate into the kitchen, we are unable to do the entire floor right now. The footprint of the kitchen will change when we get around to renovating it, so it would be silly to lay the floor now.  So what could be do to avoid having a big gap where slate meets linoleum?

So with all these weird little issues, we managed to find other things to keep us too busy to get to the floor job.

Finally, after Christmas, we had had quite enough.  So we got to work.

These are actually pictures from a while back.  We removed the linoleum some time ago, and look what we found!  An old For Sale sign had been repurposed as a sub-floor.  This may be the time to pull out a Dutch joke (West Michigan has a very high Dutch population), but I feel a little funny, not being Dutch myself.

After we pulled up all the pieces of the For Sale subfloor, we were left with this.  Jeff had a heck of a time getting those hinges out.  

The lockers will go along this wall, and we debated whether to tile all the way under the bench, since it won't be seen unless you get on your hands and knees.  

Here is the first step after our long winter break from the project.  Jeff had already laid the new sub-floor, and then we put down the cement backer board.  We put twice as many screws in as it said to use, because of the wonkiness of the floor.  We didn't want it moving at all.  It doesn't get much more solid than this.

And finally, we got up the nerve to actually lay the tile.  Turns out, this was a worst case scenario tile job.  I'll be honest.  We got the cheap stuff.  We looked at the tile specialty stores, and the slate was beautiful.  And it was $5.99 per square foot.  Then we looked at the slate at Lowes.  It didn't look that much different.  And it was $1.48 per square foot.  Easy decision, right?

I knew, in the back of my head, that there was a very good reason that the Lowes tile was so much cheaper.  I just shut that voice down and pretended I had never heard it.  

These tiles, while beautiful, have a great tendency to flake.  I read somewhere online that slate is one of the hardest stones available for flooring, but there are differing degrees of hardness, and you have to blast through the "softer" stuff to get to the harder stuff.  They used to discard the softer slate.  Now they sell it to big box stores.....like Lowes.  That would explain the flaking.

The other problem was that the thickness of each tile was significantly different.  They could vary by nearly 1/2 an inch.  While that came in handy when we needed to fish out the thinnest possible tiles to put under where the door would swing open, it did make for a difficult, and only partially successful installation.  I definitely made some mistakes here.  There is one tile that is literally surrounded on all sides by thicker, thus higher tiles.  And there are a couple of spots that simply have too great of a difference in height between two adjacent tiles.  But it's not enough to stub a toe on.  And since I have vowed to approach all house projects with the attitude that nothing is perfect in old houses, so I might as well make the new things fit in, I am okay with this.  I consider it to be a learning experience, and when we branch out to the rest of the kitchen, I will be more diligent to use a thicker coat of thinset under the thinner tiles, and try to make height differences more gradual, rather than putting two tiles that are vastly different thicknesses right next to each other.  I mostly placed the tiles by color, rather than thickness.  Next time I will try to find a balance between the two.

The good news is that, when we get around to renovating the bathroom, the ceramic tile that I put up will be a breeze!  Every tile is identical!

So anyway, it was slightly difficult as tile jobs go, but in the overall scheme of things, it was easy!  I am not afraid of laying tile at all now.  

Two weeks later, I finally got up the nerve to seal the tile.  I had been quite afraid of messing it all up.  Turns out, this job couldn't be much easier.  Think polishing a table--not applying polyurethane to it.  You just wipe the stuff on, and it dries, and you find out that your tile is even prettier than before!  

Buoyed by this victory, I moved right on to grouting.  Again, I was afraid of mixing it wrong, but it seems that even mixing isn't too hard.  I applied the grout, and Jeff came behind me to wipe up the excess.  Easy peasy.

Finally, we had to address the trap door.  I was never really pleased with the idea of the mat.  The only ones big enough to cover the door are those industrial black rubber or commercial black fuzzy things, like you see just inside of a school door.  Yuck.  I can't remember how I thought of it, but I suggested wood to Jeff.  I'm pretty sure I was just thinking about using a thick trim around the edges of the door to facilitate using a nicer rug.  But Jeff said that we could get 1/4" oak veneer plywood, which is not heavy at all.  So that's what we did!  I like it a lot. Would I prefer not having a door in the middle of the slate floor?  Yes.  But given what we had to work with, I think it turned out really well. The pictures don't even do it justice.  The colors are much deeper than they look here.  I absolutely love it.

The before and after is quite astonishing.  Too bad that the "before" is stored in our memories......

Up next:  the lockers!
                             

Perfect Imperfection

Well, we have been making a bit of progress in our mud room (to be).  The wall that will be opposite the cupboard and locker wall is primed and ready for finishing.  We bought the slate tile for the floor (as well as enough for the floor in our front entryway that has been stripped to studs for....has it been 3 or 4 years?  Eh...we'll get to that eventually).  And I finally worked up the nerve to knock out a project that scared me.

Phew.

I am a perfectionist, see.

Those of you who have been to my house may be laughing right now.  That's okay.  You would definitely not walk in my front door and exclaim, "I've discovered perfection!"  At least not yet.  Not for a good 20 years or so.  But THEN.  Oh, then, this house will be perfect.

Does "tongue-in-cheek" translate in print?

This is why I like things that are 100 years old.  If I tried to stay with every trend, I would just be getting around to shabby chic.  So I go with old, because even if this takes me 20 years, it'll be okay.  Old will still be old.

Cluttered will still be cluttered, too.  But let's think positive and assume that I will grow in my housekeeping skills as these 20 years progress.

So anyway, I am not the good kind of perfectionist.  I have a friend who is the good kind.  Her house is perfectly clean and updated, her kids are dressed perfectly, her daughter's hair is perfect, and she's always improving her house.  She likes things perfect, and so she makes them that way.  Oh, to be like her.  See, I like things perfect, too. But I get overwhelmed by the enormity of the task and worried that it won't turn out like it should.  So I hide.  I ignore.  I find something, anything else to do.  And while I recognized this about myself around two years ago (as I was finishing up one of those projects and realizing that it really hadn't been all that difficult and that I was happy with the result), it hasn't seemed to help me to tackle a project head-on.

This project may have changed that.

I have never been so happy with the outcome of an idea that had floated around in my head for some time.  There's always something to regret, right?  Not this time.

This time, it turned out better than I expected.

I took a chance.  I wanted to do something on the back wall of the cupboards that we are building.  The cupboards will have glass doors, so I thought it would be nice to make the inside a little prettier.  I saw an idea on a friend's blog that I liked, but the exact design was a little too modern for my needs.  It was perfect for her, but she lives in one of those houses that was built after asbestos and lead paint went out of style.  I want the things that we add to the house to blend in with what is already there, at least to the degree that my budget will allow.  I had a thought in my head, but I'm not the artist type who can really see the big picture and know that it will work.  I could only see a small snippet. But hey, it was worth a try.  So I sketched the first segment.

Then I attempted to sketch a mirror image.  Pretty close, but not exact.  Only then did I get the idea to scan the design that I had so far into the computer and create a mirror image that way.  Of course, I had absolutely no idea how to do that, but it seemed like something that should be possible.  So I did what any nearly 40 year old woman does when she needs help with the computer.  I called my 10 year old son.  He said he didn't know how to do it.  And then he whipped it out in about 10 minutes.

That was nearly a month ago.  My perfectionism kicked in and I was paralyzed by the fear that it wouldn't look the way that I wanted it to look.  However, since my goal is to get the mud room finished before the snow flies, I finally felt the pressure to get this done.  It could always be painted over, right?

I used a technique that I learned from the same blog.  Kind of brilliant in its simplicity.  I turned the design pattern over and scribbled over the back side of it with pencil.

I also took measurements.  I measured the length and width of the design, and determined how many repeats I would be able to draw on my board, both down and across.  That enabled me to pretty much center the design without being too fussy.  Then I marked little dots in both directions on the board at the right intervals to help guide me as I attempted to keep the pattern straight.

I lined a carpenters square up with each set of dots, and placed the pattern in the corner, right side up.  Once I was certain that it was where it should be, I traced the pattern.  

The pencil lead that I scribbled on the back side of the pattern transfered over to the board!  This is such a great technique.  I wish I had known about it before I used an exacto knife to meticulously cut all of Phillipians 4:8 out of printer paper to use as a makeshift stencil for my living room wall.  That was so much harder than it needed to be!

I just kept repeating the pattern, all the way across, just lining up both the carpenter's square and the pattern.  There were times that I just ignored the square, because it looked like the pattern was getting off.  I suppose this was due to the handmade pattern being a little "off".  But it worked out.  Every once in a while, I had to rescribble the back of the pattern.

Finally, the time came to paint.  I figured that the hard part was done.  I was wrong!  Oh, it was my own fault.  I didn't think it through.  I had the tiny artist's paint brush, but it doesn't really work so well with latex paint + primer.  Duh.  It was so thick that I couldn't paint a complete line without refilling the paint brush about three times.  This meant that the paint line would get thin, I would have to stop to refill, and then I restarted it, which often caused sort of a lumpy line.  On top of that, I used about 2 tablespoons of paint from a quart size can.  Doh!  So, if you decide to do anything like this, I recommend that you head over to Hobby Lobby and buy a small jar of paint that is actually intended to be used with those tiny little brushes.  I'm pretty sure it will be less frustrating.

As I was leaning over the board, inches away from those lines, I became discouraged at the lumpiness and imperfection.  However, once I stepped away for a break and came back, I was able to look at it from a couple of feet away.  The imperfections were hard to pick out!  The pattern had begun to take shape, and I was able to see the big picture.  That's a lesson that I plan to carry with me to all future projects.

I liked it!  That gave me the boost I needed to carry on and get it done.  And once I was done, and could look at the whole thing, the idea that had been bouncing around in my head, now in front of my eyes, I LOVED IT!  

It suddenly looked like fancy chain link, or that sort of bronze chicken wire that you see in the door panel of some antique pie safe.  It looked OLD!  It looked perfect.

Truthfully, this house will never be perfect.  It's been too well lived in.  Too many times, various owners have desired to make this house their home, and laid yet another layer of paint or wallpaper on the walls, thus making it quite impossible to ever paint a straight line between the ceiling and the wall.  And it has settled.  It was built well before laser levels.  No corner is a perfect 90 degrees, and no wall is perfectly flat. All of the imperfections of the house have given me license to accept imperfection in any additions that I make to the house.  They fit right in.  In a way, in this house, imperfect is perfect.  And while I can't make this house perfect, I can make it mine.  It just takes some guts.

Are there any projects that you have been putting off because you were too scared to tackle them?  I'm not just talking about home improvement.  Is there a story you've been wanting to write?  A complicated recipe you've wanted to try?  A party you've wanted to throw?  Let me know if you are ready to put them back at the top of the list!

Oh, and....if you can think of any good ideas for using up a quart of high gloss Spiced Chai primer + paint, please leave a comment below.

Renovation Reality

Have you ever watched the show on DIY Network called Renovation Realities?  It's a reality show that basically just follows real-life people doing real-life renovations in their own homes.  There is no professional involved, other than an occasional local plumber or electrician who is hired by the homeowners.  Just cameras, watching people unwittingly removing load-bearing walls, getting zapped by live electrical wires, and renting the wrong equipment, with some humorous text thrown in.  It has become one of my favorite shows.  Perhaps this makes me a sadist.  I like to think that it's just because it makes me feel a little more normal.

Living in a very old house is like living in a daydream.  It's all about "some day...".  We bought the house almost 11 years ago because:
a) it was cheap
b) it had "good bones" 
c) it had a formal dining room
d) it had two....count 'em....two porches
e) it had a cool front door
f) it had a sweet double-wide pocket door
g) I didn't know that more than five square feet of counter space was to be greatly desired
h) we had no idea how much it costs to heat a leaky old house, and
i) we looked at, and fell in love with it in the dead of winter, after dark, and while my hormones were still playing ping-pong with each other after the birth of our first child.

The pink tile bathroom was no big deal, because that was just a matter of giving it a facelift.  Same with the pastoral scenic wallpaper in all four of the bedrooms.  And the horrific kitchen with orange-ish knotty pine cupboards?  What?  Cupboards can be changed.  

Turns out, all those facelifts and changes take more money, time and effort than we realized.

Did I mention that we bought the house almost 11 years ago?

Okay, so we've done a few things.

Three of the four bedrooms no longer transport you to a creek, a pasture, or a barnyard.  That's a very good thing.  The cool front door became even cooler with some nicer stained glass pieces, the removal of the paint on one side, and a darker stain.  All of the boring beige carpet on the main floor was removed, and six years later, the hardwood underneath was refinished.

We are making progress.  But it is slow.  Painfully, excruciatingly slow.  

For one thing, you kind of have to work backward.  Over the last 120 years, various owners have made some "improvements".  Like wallpapering a ceiling to cover up the cracking plaster.  And then painting over the wallpaper.  And when the wallpaper comes loose in a few sections, just tear off the loose sections and paint over that.  

Because that looks a lot better than a crack in the plaster.  *sigh*  So it's not just "demo", as they say on DIY.  It's demo, then fix all the things that were done wrong in the last several decades, and then you can finally start to rebuild.

There may be no better example of the difficulties of renovating an old house than the project that we are currently working on.  

The Back Entryway.

This small room was, at one time, a part of the kitchen.  We never quite realized this until a few years ago.  The house used to have a large kitchen, but at some point (I suppose when indoor plumbing became fashionable), nearly half of it was separated by a wall and split between a bathroom and the entryway.  A couple of years ago, we removed the door that separated the kitchen and the entryway, and removed the cupboards that lined one side of the entryway.  They were covered in lead-based paint, and not terribly well-built or practical, so I was happy to be rid of them.  Turns out, though, that having a place to put my dishes was underrated.  I would love to get the everyday dishes off of the open, warehouse-type shelving in the pantry.  And the nice dishes out of boxes.  In addition, I have dreamed for about six years (ever since I saw a picture of them in the Pottery Barn catalogue), of having a mudroom with sections for each of my kids to put backpacks, coats, and most importantly, wet boots when they come in from outside.  It seemed like the back entryway (where we usually enter the house) was the perfect place to take care of both problems.

So I designed and sketched out a plan:

Obsessive?  Me?  Did I mention.....11 years?

For cupboards, cubbies, lockers, a bench, and boot storage.

Of course, a wall was in the way.  No problem, right?  Just take out the wall!  It wasn't original, so there was no real worry about it being load-bearing, and it would give us an extra foot or so to work with.  An extra foot of floor to ceiling storage space is worth its weight in gold.  Well, space doesn't really weigh anything....but you get the idea.  So we went to work getting that little section of wall torn down.  

Of course, we weren't counting on the old knob and tube wiring running right through the part of the wall that is above the door.  Shucks.  So we had to move it.  But knob and tube isn't really safe, so it would be dumb to just move it.  I mean, we're in the wall already....we (and by "we" here, I mean Jeff, and you can assume that anytime that wiring is mentioned) might as well just rewire to the overhead light.  Well, that meant removing a part of the wall that we hadn't intended to remove, on the other side of the door.  And of course, that led to more wiring that we couldn't, in good conscience, drywall over. So another wall came down.  I wasn't sorry to see these walls go.  They were part of the addition, and built with cheap wallboard, not plaster.  Still, it was more work.  And more time.

In the meantime, we did buy the MDF needed to build the cupboards.  Jeff took a week off from work, and we had a little stay-cation.  The first day, we made a lot of progress.  All the pieces of the cupboards were cut out.  There was a lot of measuring twice, and thrice, because we have never built anything like this, so we wanted to be REALLY sure.  The next morning, Jeff rolled primer on the pieces, and that is when the project hit a major snag.  We didn't like the way that the paint looked.  It was rough and marbley from the roller.  We wanted it smooth.  That took a while to figure out but we finally came to the conclusion that a foam roller is giving us a good result.  In the meantime, we tore out the linoleum and most of the sub-floor, which was made of a repurposed wood "Home for Sale" sign.

The "HOME FOR SALE" sign, the rusty hinges, and the partially stripped door casing (on the right)

Again though, we hit a roadblock.  The only access to our basement is through a trap door in the floor of this entryway.  It was all rigged up with a pulley system, counter-weighted in the basement with old bleach jugs filled with sand.  Really, who says recycling is some new idea?  Anyway, the hinges were rusted, and it was hard to get the screws out.  We needed to remove the hinges in order to get the For Sale subfloor out.

On top of that, I decided to start stripping the paint off of the wood trim that would be adjacent to the new cupboards.  I had decided a long time ago to restore all the wood trim to its original beauty, but I wasn't planning on starting in the back entryway.  However, stripping paint is a very messy affair, and I figured I should get that out of the way before I put newly painted cupboards in, since those would inevitably get messed up by the paint stripper.  

So the entryway sat, stalled for a few weeks.  It didn't help that there was a short camping trip for the family, a hiking trip for Jeff and Jacob, the start of school for all three of my kids, and work to go back to.  

Well, we've finally started inching along again.  Jeff has put the drywall up, so there are no more exposed studs!  He also mudded and taped it, and today, he primed the walls.  I have put two coats of paint on the cupboard pieces.  Some pieces need paint on both sides, so once the other side is done, we will be ready to put the cupboards together.  Then we will start all over again, cutting out, painting, and building the lockers and cubbies. 

We also need to figure out what to do with the ceiling before we hang the cupboards.  The kitchen has a dropped ceiling, whereas the entryway does not.  Now that the two rooms are no longer separated, and since the cupboards will be hung where the kitchen ceiling tiles now are, we need to come up with a short-term solution. 

 In the meantime, I can work on wallpapering and trimming out the opposite wall, as well as the wall around the door to the porch.  I also really need to finish stripping the door casings.   

So, in this small project, just about 36 square feet, we went from dysfunctional: 

to barren: 

to blank canvas: 

all in only five weeks.  I'm feeling okay about it, though.  

Maybe that's because I've been watching too many episodes of Renovation Realities.