My Old Home
My taste for blogging has flagged a bit in recent weeks, mostly because I've just been too busy with muddling through post-divorce complications, becoming a single parent to my fifteen-year-old son, and trying to get my kitchen remodeling project completed.

With that said, I'd like to write about my little project. I live in a house that's over 100 years old, is seriously dropped on one corner of the foundation, and has numerous opportunities for improvement. That's where my kitchen project comes in.

At some point within the past 20 years, the previous owner put a single story addition off the back of the house. The addition basically doubled the square footage of the first floor, with full 3/4 of that space being devoted to the kitchen. The problem, however, is that the utilization of the space still made the whole thing seem small and crowded. My guess is that the reason for this was because of the inground pool that was also built. I've written some about that albatross in the past, having spent the greater part of the summer of 2004 demolishing and filling in the thing because the woman who had it built was too short-sighted and arrogant to realize that building an inground pool with concrete decking all around on top of a hill that drops a minimum of 15 feet into the adjoining lot would not work well without a solid retaining wall to keep the whole works from sliding over the hill and into the Ohio River.

This is relevant because the quarter of the space on the addition to my house that was not dedicated to the kitchen was partioned off into a narrow 'sun room', which must have originally been intended as the entry and exit to the pool area. The end result was to create not one, but two, areas that are too small to be of much practical use -- especially if the pool was not in use. Considering that said pool was not heated, and that the number of days in a year where swimming in such a pool can be counted using less than the fingers on both hands, this was a case of poor design.

So when I found myself single again, I saw a great opportunity to claim this sun room for raising a bunch of new houseplants I'd bought in a impulsive mood to try and cheer myself up. After putting up a makeshift window shelf and watching how my sun loving plants thrived in this room, I realized that the wall put up between the sun room and the breakfast nook on its other side was depriving the whole kitchen of the advantages of this wonderful, natural light -- even on the gloomiest of days.

Besides being morosely dark as a result of this wall, the breakfast nook was too small to seat more than two people comfortably.

So three weeks ago, I set about to cut a big hole in this wall, with the intent of creating a lunch counter in the sun room and letting more light into the breakfast nook. Actually, the project really started with me scraping hideous wallpaper off of the kitchen walls, in the hope that replacing it with a fresh coat of light-colored paint would create more reflected light and openness in the kitchen. This was going to be a small scale project that would cost me virtually nothing and make a vast improvement in the overall effect of the rooms. However, as often happens with me, I saw an opportunity to make what I thought would be just a small improvement for only a little bit more money. More on that later.

To try and give you an idea of how the space is laid out, the sun room measures about 15 feet from the back door to the doorway into the kitchen and is only about 10 in depth from the picture windows to the wall dividing it from the breakfast nook. Too narrow to put a table of that would seat 4 without severely blocking the throughway to the back door. The breakfast nook is smaller yet, measuring about 7 feet square, again making the use of a normal, 4-chair table a tight proposition at best. Those doomed to sit against the inner walls were virtually trapped there anytime others would sit in the chairs on the kitchen side.

As I ripped out drywall, insulboard, and 100-year old wood siding to make my whole, a brillant (at least, imo) dawned on me.

Instead of creating a lunch counter in the sunroom, while continuing to deal with the annoying space limitations of the puny breakfast nook, why not build a bigger 'table' that straddled the wall. That way, instead of creating seating for 7 people who would still be crowded and where interaction would be somewhat inconvenient between those who sat at the counter and those doomed to be crammed into the nook, why not create a table that would easily accomodate six people comfortably and would allow them to interact?

And so that's where I'm at. And the great thing about it is that I'm still not spending a lot of money, except on tools that I didn't have, but needed to do the job. I've been able to reclaim lumber and drywall, plus I had a bunch of lumber in the garage from a project to build beds for D's kids that I never got around to before she left.

Yesterday, I came to the point where I am ready to install the tabletop and drywall. The thing is frickin' awesome, I'm telling you. The tabletop is nearly as long as my 8-person dining room table, and a full 9 inches wider. Plus, once the basic framework is completed, I will be able to build a ton of countertops, cabinets and shelves for my beloved plants to beautify the whole area. And the effect of increased openness and natural light is just amazing.

Only one thing is missing. A woman's touch. I can build the stuff, but I sorely lack the domestic touch and feel for how to choose the right accessories to make the place truly stunning. When I am done with the basics, I will post some pics (if I can figure out how to do it) and elicit suggestions on how to really make the place shine. Who knows? Maybe wife Number Four will emerge from the chatter.

Sorry that this post wasn't more interesting, but I'm having a blast making my home into something unique.
- posted by The Drake @ 2:04 PM