In which I see the light at the end of the tunnel

One of my New Year's resolutions was to set a blogging schedule for myself, and so far...oops. Christmas was exceedingly busy with non-home-improvement-related activities, and Jesse thoughtfully gifted me with the new XBox and a game I've been breathlessly waiting to play, so there's been quite a bit more digital adventuring than building. 

HOWEVER. Our kitchen has been a complete disaster since just after Thanksgiving, when I started in on the cabinets. 

Ah yes, the early stages of chaos. I remember it fondly.

Once I got the upper cabinets and the cabinet by the refrigerator built, it was time to paint. Naturally, this meant everything IN the cabinets had to come out, and so far...nothing has been put back. Needless to say, we've been eating a lot of takeout. (But we did find a fantastic new-to-us Thai place and a new Mexican place within walking distance. Good thing none of my resolutions involve dieting.)

Painting has been a rather slow process. I've been using Benjamin Moore's Advance in Super White (which is apparently the color one gets when one asks the guys behind the counter for "white, just white, the whitest white you've got") and it's my first experience using an alkyd paint. It's ridiculously expensive, but worth every penny. It's so low in VOCs that I barely needed to open any windows (awesome, since it was around 15 degrees here for a week or so) and dries to a hard, glossy finish that is much more resistant to scratches than the Metro Mountain Snow I've used everywhere else.

Speaking of cold temperatures, it was well below freezing around New Year's, and the gray cat next door decided he'd rather live with us, and kept trying to sneak into the house whenever anyone opened the door. Since he's not our cat but still a step above being a stray, I made him a fancy warm cat igloo that he has shunned in favor of a pile of paint rags I had in a box on the porch. Cats.

  Sad, empty cat igloo.

 Ungrateful gray cat. I did tape some cardboard over his box of rags to mitigate the wind somewhat.

Last week was the first week I really felt like I'd made any progress. I FINALLY got around to painting the awful beige ceiling and walls. Everything is a clean, crisp white (Metro Mountain Snow) except for the south and west walls, which are a fantastic leathery black I found in at the Powell Paint Center mis-mixed section. 

Once the ceiling was done, I could replace the light fixtures. It warms my heart to see the horrible track lighting and faux-Victorian flushmount sitting out on the back deck, just waiting to be taken to the dump. SO LONG, EIGHTIES MONTSTROSITIES! In their place are two schoolhouse semi-flushmounts I got on sale from Home Depot and spray-painted oil-rubbed bronze. (There were actual oil-rubbed bronze ones there, but they were $50 instead of $22, and the spray paint I like is like $4 a can...yeah, even I can do the math on that one.) I finally got around to spray-painting the pendant light over the sink a glossy black, and it looks so much better. When it was white, it sank into the background of the tile. Not anymore!

I also painted and installed the two salvage cabinet doors I got at the Rebuilding Store ages ago. They look perfect, and make a classy display case for all my milk glass.

Today, I put up trim. It still needs to be painted, but it already feels so much more functional. I love my kitchen! It's starting to look exactly like I'd pictured. 

Still on the docket:

- Patch and paint trim

- Make doors for upper cabinets

- Re-stain and seal lower cabinets

- Strip, stain, seal and laundry room and basement doors

- Paint window bench

- Install hardware

- Install pot rack (but where, that's the question we're still trying to answer)

- Clean like whoa because seriously, there is so much sawdust (also I accidentally knocked a liter of ginger ale off the top of the fridge today, which exploded and turned the floor into a slick of gingery sawdust sludge)

One of these days, we may even cook in the kitchen. In the meantime, I have leftover pineapple fried rice and Dragon Age Inquisition to keep me happy.

For queen and country!

How many crown-related titles can I come up with? Not many, apparently - I blame my heathen colonial roots on that. The only crowns we have in this country are the ones that come from the dentist. (Not that I have any of those. Anyway.)

I could blame the long radio silence on a great many things - namely, my lovely baby sister getting weddinged to her equally lovely wife - but to be perfectly honest, I've been avoiding the crown molding because it looks hard. I've probably watched two hours of Youtube videos of distinguished craftsmen earnestly explaining to their patient camera operators how to properly set a miter. I've slowly chopped about eight feet of crown into six-inch sections trying to get it right, but it's a complicated formula of bevel-miter-fence-crown, and while an infinite number of monkeys may eventually bang out the complete works of Shakespeare, this particular monkey doesn't have the finances for an infinite amount of crown. (Even as cheap as it is at my favorite store.)

So...I've been avoiding it. Until tonight, when Incredible Builder Mom sent me a link on Pinterest that is probably the best tutorial I've ever seen in my life. 

 

Source: The ever-fabulous Sawdust Girl. I could kiss her dusty boots right now.

So I followed her directions, and made my own templates:

And once I got the bevel-miter-fence-crown combos ironed out, it was - dare I say - easy. I only stopped tonight once my project manager (aka Jesse) gently pointed out that it was getting late, and we like our neighbors and want them to continue liking us and our noisy pneumatic nailer. 

Yes, there are gaps large enough to drive a truck through, but that's what caulk is for, right? Right. It's part of the, erm, charm of discount trim. Or possible the innate charm of our house. Definitely not the fault of my miter saw Dad's miter saw. 

And yes, the ceiling paint does stop right in the kitchen. That's another project for another paycheck.

 

LOOK AT THAT! It looks like an actual almost-finished house. (And feminism be damned, that horrible boob light has got to go.)

And speaking of looking, I fully recognize that this blog is a vanity project. I am awesome. The things I do are awesome. Occasionally I even finish an awesome thing:

This is the built-in bookshelf in the dining room - painted and done! (Please ignore the monster plant. I rescued it from a dumpster right around the time we moved, but neither it nor I have been happy with any of the places I've put it in so far. It's a work in progress.) There are additional shelves drying in the garage, which hopefully I'll be able to put up tomorrow, provided I remember where all the hardware is. 

 

There is no before. There is only during. 

Construction can be very existential.

  
The bookshelves started out life as laminate IKEA BILLY units. I primed them with Zinsser water-based primer, which is my new favorite thing ever, because I didn't even have to sand the laminate before priming. This stuff adheres like crazy to EVERYTHING.(Including, um, the metal bits of the paintbrush, should one inadvertently allow it to dry. Oops) Once the bookcases were primed, I made a base out of 2x4s to raise them enough so our wide baseboard could comfortably wrap around, anchored the units to studs and added trim, caulked around the edges and painted. 

Yeah, I'm pretty pleased with how it's turned out so far.

In related news, I have finished five gallons of paint. This should be a triumphant story, but it's not. After relying almost exclusively on recycled or mismixed paint for my color needs, having to actually buy new white paint was annoying, and also having to pay $80 for a giant tub of Glidden Ceiling and Trim was even more annoying. I was certainly not going to pay twice that for the higher-quality Behr stuff, and the biggest tragedy of all is that Metro has been sold out of their Mountain Snow all freaking summer. It's a problem. The other problem? The coverage. I put four coats of the Glidden on the above bookshelf in the dining room IN ADDITION to the primer, and I swear there are still spots I can see the dark laminate lurking underneath. (I have been informed by my beloved that I may in fact be crazy. We do try to exemplify romance.)

So. It may be time to buy a brand of paint that doesn't suck. I can already feel my bank account crying. My paintbrush hand, however, is crying right now from overuse, so it may in fact be worth it. 

Honey, you should see me in a crown...

This week has been bzzzzzzzy. Not that the others aren't...I'm just feeling more than a little self-imposed pressure. I told myself ages ago that I wanted to at least get the downstairs trim up in time for the deluge of relatives for my lovely sister's wedding...which is next weekend. Time crunch! Am I close?

For the love of god someone please paint over the fire alarm shadow. That's just gross. 

Um. We're getting there. And so far, it's only Thursday!  I got time, I got time. I've got NINE DAYS. And I don't recall explicitly saying I'd have everything PAINTED by the wedding. (Details.)

Luckily, the seemingly-endless linear footage of MDF trim we got at my new favorite store came primed, so all I have to do is slap enough white paint on it to make it less of a chore when I go back through and caulk and fill all the nail holes I'm leaving. This is my first time using a pneumatic nailer, so perhaps I can be excused for taking WAY too long to realize it was jamming every other nail, so most of the baseboards I've put up are completely covered in holes that do not actually have nails in them. (I was sitting there on the floor trying to figure out why thirty nails didn't seem to be actually holding the baseboards on the walls. Oops.) In the end, Incredible Builder Dad came through with valuable wisdom, and recommended oiling the nailer. Turns out two drops of sewing machine oil in the air inlet before every use makes a happy, dare I say well-oiled nailer. KACHUNK KACHUNK KACHUNK. 

 Look at that! Baseboard, shoe and all. Just gorgeous, that's what that is. 

(Never mind the bookcase. That's getting painted later.)

So far, with nine days to go, I've got all of the baseboard with at least one coat of paint. Most of the living room/dining room baseboard is in place, and has even been shod by the stairs. Half the crown has been painted, and some of it is up, although I've been avoiding the bits that need to be coped, because that just looks annoying. (It won't be. I found a great tutorial for Dremel coping, and if there's anything I love, it's an excuse to Dremel something.)

 It's starting to look like a real, livable house! And it's a mess. Naturally.

I'm not 100% sure that weird stair column is structural, but I'm also not sure it's not, so...

I still haven't decided what to do with it.

I, um, still don't have any sawhorses. 

What I do have is a little black truck, which works just as well.

In yet another chapter of But It Was Free!: An Autobiography, we were on our way to our friends' house last Sunday for hamburgers and s'mores, when what do my searching eyes behold?

Free chairs! And despite being white and so very, erm, retro, they are not only in good shape, they are mostly clean. And now they're mine. (No, I have no idea what I'll do with them. Don't ask questions!)