For those of you that don't know, my husband and I have embarked on a crazy crazy program of buying houses that are ugly and fixing them up and living in them for a while and then renting them out and moving on to the next one. Well. You can imagine, I'm sure, what living through an ongoing renovation does to a person (besides making them crazy)...
By no means are we doing a full blown kitchen renovation with moving walls and ripping out cupboards and such, we're simply re-tiling the floor, redoing the wall behind the cabinets, tiling the back splash, and adding new bench top and a fancy new faucet. That's it.
Now, a word (or five) to the wise in the food-loving world: Don't ever renovate your kitchen. If you have the urge to renovate, don't. Sell your existing house and move into a house that already has the kitchen you want. If, however, you have some scary, freaky urge to inflict massive quantities discomfort on yourself, and frequent arguments about topics as mundane as the colour of your drawer-pulls, by all means ignore my well-intentioned advice.
If you do decide to renovate your kitchen after looking at the photos below, you can expect to progress through the following stages, which have been proven scientifically (sample size three) to occur in all kitchen renovations:
Stage One: It doesn't look so bad
This stage is often characterised by discussions such as "we can just take off the old tiles and put the new ones straight over the existing drywall" and, "we'll just keep the original bench top, it looks to be in such excellent shape, and was obviously custom crafted" and, "This'll be easy-peasy. I can't imagine that it will take us any longer than a week."
Stage Two: The hidden truth
Stage two is often characterised by these and other similar discoveries:
- bizarre plaster job under old back splash tiles which seems to include quantities of human chest hair and playground sand and which is applied over old drywall, including, in some places, over old oil-base paint, such that it comes away in vast, uneven chunks with the removal of the existing tiles.
- bench top which look perfectly nice and sound had rotted through because former owner did not silicone the lip of the sink and now the only thing holding it together is the Formica applied to the top. When you remove said bench top so that you can repair back wall (see dot point above), large chunks of rotten chipboard plop off sickeningly.
Stage Three: ...now that we've removed the [insert item here] and have access to the [insert other item here] we might as well [insert totally unplanned major task here]
This stage sounds like the worst, but it really isn't. It signals the end of the denial about how much time and money this renovation will cost you. You are coming to be at peace with the chaos that is your kitchen.
After stage three, the stages become much more manageable and smaller, and will seem to occur more quickly because they can be broken up into smaller, more discreet tasks, vis:
Stage Four: No bench top, no sink, plumbing unconnected
Stage Five: Bench top in, no sink, no plumbing, fridge in hallway, stove in bedroom. Can make food such as sandwiches and pre-packaged salads which do not require running water or much bench space due to competition from tools.
Stage Six: Sink in, but no running water, fridge in hallway, stove in bathroom as can't use bathroom anyway due to lack of toilet as have decided to renovate bathroom at same time as already have all the tools hired (see Stage Three). Still living off sandwiches and takeaway.
Stage Seven: Sink in, water running, drain not hooked up so when you pull the plug after having washed dishes, other than in bathtub, for first time in week, water spills out into cabinet below which, upon further inspection, you discover is rotten and when you try to lift the bottom plank of wood to see, said plank crumbles in hand and causes you to stab self accidentally with rusty screw. Have graduated to instant oatmeal packets and cup-a-soup, which involve water, but minimal dishes and preparation space. Lament inability to use spanky new lavender Kitchenaid husband bought for birthday.
Stage Eight: Bench top in, sink in, back splash tiled, spanky new faucet in, water running, bonus dishwasher (easiest task of all at 15 minutes to install - feel smug), drain connected and working, cabinet floor removed and replaced, husband installing tile floor, stove still in bathroom, fridge in front hall blocking front door. No restriction on preparation of cold foods or easily microwaveable foods. Can prepare limited cooked foods by forcing husband to drag stove from bathroom into kitchen for a few hours. Must access fridge by going out back door, coming in front door, opening fridge, retrieving items, closing fridge and front door, walking around back of house and in back door to kitchen.
Stage Nine: Floor in (after 6 days and one husband with broken back) fridge in, stove in (although still needs replacing). Full kitchen access restored, despite finishing touches still outstanding. Plenty of bench top space for spanky new lavender Kitchenaid. Begin speaking to husband/wife again without yelling.
Definitely an improvement! Looks considerably less scrungy now...have you bought a new stove yet?
Posted by: Stephanie | May 10, 2005 at 10:38 PM
Oh you legends. I'm inspired.
Go the Smeg! You'll be glad you did.
Posted by: anthony | May 12, 2005 at 09:43 PM