Phase I: BEFORE - The Grand Toad

She is our house's namesake - Toadhall - our great room in the back. And the reason we bought this place.  

Let me set the scene: An expansive 42' x 23' room, mostly green plexiglass for walls. One pane has a smiley face scratched into it. Eleven foot high wooden ceilings with amazingly heavy support beams, a huge10' x 18' multiple-paned skylight in the middle.  
 
Where there are walls, they're covered with ugly brown exterior siding that matches the dark brown, cream and, yes, orange back porch you reach through double glass sliders from the kitchen. 

Phase I - KITCHEN #4 - The Extra Fridge

So along with all this rearranging in our kitchen, I did an experiment with my fridge. Originally back in December, I decided to buy a housemate fridge. That meant finding a place for it. I decided that if I bought one just a bit smaller, it would fit into the fridge alcove. But then our fridge needed to move. Where? I wanted to try next to the dishwasher. To see how that would feel, TJ, Rae and I moved our fridge over right after we did the chimney  (Part #1 in this series), and created the new work stations (Part #2). Could we get used to the fridge right there, or would it feel in the way?

To our surprise, it felt terrific!

For years we had moved around the island as shown to the left to prepare a meal. We got our food from the fridge, dumping the fixings on the small side of the island that was most reachable. Then we carried it all to the sink to clean, to then carry it to the other small side of the island to chop and throw into pots, or walked all the way to the far corner of the kitchen to pop things into the microwave. Because our micro is also a convection oven, we use it a great deal, cooking rice, and steaming veggies.
                                                                                                                             But as you see here, meal prep now lives in two tighter triangles on one side of the island. When we open our fridge, we place the washables immediately on the sink counter. Turn around and we're right where we need to cook. The microwave is closer to the prep areas too. And when our housemates are prepping food at their new stations, we're not in their way.


 So we kept the new position for our fridge, and purchased a new fridge for our housemates that just fit into the existing alcove you see in the plan below:

 

And there's more. Here's a sneak peak into Phase 2.

As you see here, I've noted a new, decently-sized alcove where the housemate fridge will ultimately go when we finish Phase 2 (Click to get a slide show of all pictures.) Creating that new space - and buying a fridge that opens in the proper direction- allows their fridge to open right onto the edge of the purple area where they prepare food.


It's not ideal since our housemates must move into the rose colored area when they need to wash or cook. If I had the budget, I'd put a second sink into the new counter by the chimney. (Maybe that will be a Phase 3 in future.) Doing that would create circulation triangles on each side of the island.

For now, it's working.

I love how piles of chopped fresh food fill the butcher blocks. Being vegetarian, Stephen likes to use the main island area to cut up his many assorted veggies. Then he grabs a bunch with both hands, reaches straight across to drop them into the hot pan on the stovetop. It sizzles.

We all take turns at the sink, cooktop or microwave, chattering about our day.

Phase I: KITCHEN #3 - The Serendipitous Delightful Palette

Here are the earlier posts about my kitchen rethinking. Each link opens in a new window so you can pop back here to continue the series:

Phase I: KITCHEN #1 - A Touch of Story

Phase I: KITCHEN #2 - How Intending Multi-Use Improved What We'd Grown Accustomed To

My Country For A Palette

No natural light reaches my kitchen without traveling through another room first. Windows are too far away. So one of the prior owners painted the kitchen all white. It's an honest impulse being the lightest tint. The floors are white, the walls are white, as are the counter surfaces, all the base and upper cabinetry, and the pantry doors. Everything, save some wood trim on counter edges, drawer and cabinet door fronts,....is white. But even with that touch of wood, the kitchen feels bland. Literally colorless. 

When we moved in, I wanted to add some color, something rich. And not wanting the typical kitchen-y yellow or green, I aimed for a bolder terracotta. It would give a nice groundedness to the bottom of the room, and the white uppers and counters would still add a brightness.

But the paint job came out a peachy orange. It wasn't horrible, but I wasn't thrilled. I'm still not.

I live with it, assuming that when I finally remodel this kitchen to make it flow better (Vortex Kitchen, remember?), I'll do something classy.

So the time has come. And my first thoughts in bringing our house story in here is this wonderful vintage palette below, with lots of sepia in it. Very Victorian. Done judiciously, I think that color fits into the modern, yet old world flavor palette I'm aiming at. (See Old Lady Furniture about that story.)

Phase I's Reality

As we are moving through our Phase I, the reality of designing this house for a wider and more collective use is making me selective. Selective about physical things, which is all to the good. But also about ideas. I am loosening my hold on "designing", per se. By that I mean, overlaying a design onto a space, even a good design. I have worried some that it would feel unfinished if I did less than a full-blown design story throughout. But instead I am discovering the reverse. Hidden inside this letting go, there is serendipity! There is more reusing things in fresh ways. And even better, there is rediscovering my delight. And that assembles into a more authentic, unique story. Ours!

So, I told you in Step 2  that I finished my second work station by throwing down a small area rug to invite housemates to use the area. Where did that come from? 

A room where it didn't work. Last year, I painted the kids upstairs bathroom an amazing apple green. Later, I happened upon a vibrant striped rug while shopping, and bought it, hoping it would work in the bathroom. But the bathroom is long and has a two-sink vanity. The rug looked too inconsequential. 

I held onto it because the palette pleased me.(I told myself that I didn't have anything else to use there for the moment.) So I just left it in there as the shower rug. And not using that bathroom, I totally forgot about it.

Well, look what happened! Somewhere inside me, this palette was meant to be a part of my house story. When my daughter Rae and I went shopping for the Common areas odds and ends last November, we bought placemats for the new harvest table, soap dishes, a shower caddy, small bathroom accessories and new dishtowels. (Ah, there's something about dishtowels.They're always grabbed when the potholder isn't within reach, or whenever you need something between you and whatever. They're constantly rubbed on wet hands and across kitchen surfaces too. I'm afraid mine quickly slip into raggedness without my noticing. ....and I still will use them. I won't embarrass mine with a picture.)

When I was buying placemats, I was looking at vintage greens and soft colors for the dining room. Understated.The soap dispensers for the kitchen were the bisque white and oiled brass that would work with the country style. But this is the dishtowel pack I picked....even as I clung to the vintage green kitchen in my future:

It was over a week before I realized how the rug and the towels worked together:

Now I am pleased with my peachy base cabinets.They will stay. They say playful in a very "me" way to my housemates. This is so much more organic than an imposed design theme. It grew from what I had obviously been drawn too, while it saved me dollars.

And now here's the last bit of serendipity. Do you remember the post ,Hinting at Story, Hinting at Period where I express how much I adore the Florida Cracker House palettes? They're colorful, bold and playful. Well, here it is! Rather than the subdued,Victorian kitchen that would "tell the proper story", I have a bright upbeat Cracker House kitchen.

I realize now that  instead of "what's my house's design story?", I should be asking "What delights me?" This cheery palette does and it works. Brightens my spirits in a way that even a very classy Vintage would not.

Now I have two housemates. Instead of gathering around the big country table as I first assumed, we all lean in places around the kitchen, with our bowls and cups in our hands, and we talk. Does my Cracker-colored kitchen contribute to that? If it was more vintage would the darker, formal feeling move us on our way ? Dunno. But I think the cheery me in this kitchen attracts them, and I'll take community where it comes. In this case, I believe it is organically designed into the room.

Phase I: The KITCHEN #2 - How Intending Multi-Use Improved What We Had Grown Accustomed To

So when I was figuring out what to do with my kitchen in the wee hours last December (See that post in a new window here), I realized that I could use the badly placed center island to advantage ( No, really?), and separate the multiple work areas of my "Vortex Kitchen."


(Whenever I discuss space planning, I'll always show you where that room lies in relationship to the rest of that floor. It's wise to keep the bigger picture - called  thinking about adjacencies- in mind as you rework a room so you understand where people will enter from or will want to travel to. )

Step #2 Planning for Multiple Meal Prep 

So here's a large room plan showing how my kitchen originally laid out:

  .

In this BEFORE picture to the right of the fridge and hallway wall, you see there was absolutely nothing on the wall. (I'll tell you that the kitchen's heating vent is in the center of the floor right there.)

Granted, I must have access to and take  into account anything over the heat, but still! Wasting four feet of floor space and an entire wall with nary a shelf in any kitchen is unforgivable. This is an overt example of wasted  or unused square footage. we have them all over our house, but really don't see them. When you want to modify your home for the better, or find places for new uses, finding these precious unused inches, and feet, should be one of the first things you look for as you walk around your house.

It doesn't take much to make big changes:

As you saw in my Kitchen Step #1 post about what I actually did,( "A Touch that Spoke of Story".), I added the chimney and the cabinetry on that wall. 

So now I added the narrow butcher block counter. It's the logical completion to a new cook prep station. With an inexpensive heat flow director ($5), and a careful choice about what counter works there - notice the raised open grid shelf for recycling below - I have created a comfortable place for another person in the kitchen, without heating anything I might worry about. Plus, it's right by their shelving! 
No push out or big remodel.

In phase 2, I'm wiring in an under cabinet light. I added two GFCI appliance outlets now, so anyone can plug in that 2-unit electric cook unit  tucked into the corner of the counter that I decided I'd use instead of another drop-in range. Less costly, way more flexible.

Now notice in my  plan above how my 13.3 cubic ft medium fridge does not fit into the alcove made for it. It's wider by maybe an inch or so. Painfully close. So it sits forward of the alcove. The fridge door doesn't open fully to remove the bins for cleaning, and it creates a bottleneck whenever we move anything from the great room beyond the glass sliders next to the dishwasher into the kitchen - moving the piano from the great room to the living room was no fun! But we've managed. It has been there for so many years that I don't think about it anymore.

But that's the point. See here where I've put things in the kitchen years ago and have used them this way ever since.

When I decided that I wanted more people sharing my kitchen, I realized that I had positioned our appliances to serve only two cooks. Us. Even though this kitchen is large enough for more many cooks and helpers.

More importantly, just thinking about the new intention allowed me to see places that were natural as new work stations. Places I didn't see before. It is easy now to move things out of the area and rethink the shelf contents for what people would need as they work there. I put the measuring tools on that low shelf and the drawers right there have prep utensils. Plus, the small appliances are now tucked into the dark corner that's least likely to be used for work, out of the way but still within easy reach.

In the last picture below, you see how I moved the microwave over, and put the breadmaker we only occasionally use in the Hoosier in the dining room. It can be brought out and plugged in wherever it's needed by whomever is baking. Flexible and responsive.

Last thing - I threw an area rug down in front of this new space - an invitation - and moved one of the butch block cutting boards over. Voila, another work area- and it already has under counter lighting!

The intention you bring to the room, even subconsciously, gives you that end result! So the more you decide the use, the more you'll get exactly that.


 So now my kitchen looks like this plan:

The Stuff Behind the Staging

Being in the midst of remodeling feels a little like being a character in a performance. It feels like I'm playing a role, ...or pretending.

Pretending to be clean. Pretending to be organized. Pretending to strive for a more simple, aligned life and inviting others to share that with me. The common spaces of the house we share, and their own suites and storage areas have open spaces on the shelves, have little organized boxes for utensils, has all the herbal teas together on one shelf, and the Assam teas on another.

But my bedroom (where they cannot see) is like the prop shop of a theatre with its working disarray. Thermometers and band-aids, the boric acid eye wash, arm and knee supports, and ace bandages spill over their containers into piles of design magazines I still have to sort through. Extra vacuum bags are thrown on shelves that are already full of emergency earthquake food storage, with that box you grab as your most important papers.

My new studio has all the furniture in its right place, and my art and reference books are in the shelves, but placed haphazardly, so I cannot find what I need. For much of my storage, I have not yet made the decisions about what goes where, so they sit in bags on the floor in front of where they might live.

But this is what's in the place where the new shelves will go that will hold all that disorder:

 This is my new master bathroom: the deep soaking tub, my vanity and one wardrobe, the linen cabinet, and the flooring....plus some boxes of books that might actually get to stay here.

Here's my tub sliding doors, and the tile and grout for the tub and backsplash, the shower head, the vanity sink, another wardrobe, still to be assembled.... 

.....you get the picture.

It's hard to live with and in. But then I remember that during phase1, I lived with this for weeks to give the crew the space to work efficiently,...





so I can have this now:

I will look at this picture of my new wonderful studio and seating area, and remember that the fuss and clutter are so worth it. And when I finally get to use my deep soaker tub and master bath, that new wonderful transparent wall will have the space to hold my backless bookshelves that let light tease through.And when THAT happens, I will sort through my overspill...and simplify, at least to some degree, down to what I really want to keep. It will be real movement towards what's important to me.

Phase I: The KITCHEN #1 - a Touch that Spoke of Story

So what actually happened in our kitchen? I altered only three things actually. 

First, I created a focal point, which I'll talk about in this post. Then I did the major rethinking to space plan for multiple users- so important if you are sharing a room. Lastly, I didn't paint!  Instead, I accidentally but happily found a palette that worked with the original cabinet color. Saved the dollars, and felt okay about the "not-quite-terra-cotta" orange lower cabinetry. But I will talk about that later.

Here's where the kitchen lives on our first floor. Notice there are rooms all around it, so no windows offer direct natural light into this continually-used home workspace.

Step #1 Tie the Modern Kitchen to the Story

First change I did was to give my kitchen a story focal point, just as I had in the dining room with my harvest table. In the BEFORE pictures below, you see a nondescript modern, and anything but 1908 kitchen. 

Since my story is Modern Farmhouse, I could leave most of it, but how to bring in one element that expressed the country aspect?

It was an inexpensive change, one I've wanted to do since I moved here. I recreated the existing chimney! 

What?

Do you see  the chimney here in the BEFORE shot of the pantry, fridge wall? It's that drywall covered column against the pantry doors. I know it's our chimney because you can see the other part of the chimney chase on the other side in the old laundry that is through the door. (You can also see the black dot marking the chimney chase on the plan above.) 

But could I just uncover it? Was that chase now a metal column or the original brick?  I hear water running inside the chase from an upstairs bathroom, but didn't know where the pipe was located - kitchen side, laundry side, inside or in front of? 

In the end, not knowing what I would find and not wanting to spend money filling in the gap that removing the wall would create in the flooring I was going to keep, I decided to recreate the chimney with thinly sliced, real brick (called Slim or Thin brick these days). I researched the many, many brick colors and then TJ and I picked one that went with the California Western Victorian period, that we also liked. (Remember, make the house story one you love.)

Here's how it happened:  
 
The wall came off, and yes, the 18" x 18" brick chimney is indeed there. You can see the original stove pipe hole too. Also, there are pipes running up the right side. If I'd hoped to use the original chimney, I'd be dealing with that plus the 4" gap in both my subfloor and finish floor. Building on top of what was there was the right choice.  

The archeologist in me immediately imagined the original design. Was the cook stove against the wall right here, or sticking out into the heart of the room? The bricks are widely, coarsely spaced with messy mortar between, and that's true-sized timber framing around it, so my guess is that it was covered up originally. The chimney was utilitarian not meant to be seen. Heh, well now my house will have an exposed chimney!

Cement board establishes the original profile and a hearty chimney size, giving us a strong surface onto which we can adhere the brick.

Authentic materials offer wonderful texture to our very digital world. Our homes are the perfect place to have materials we want to touch. That feel like hearth and home literally. This thinly molded brick is real brick, but it is 1/2" thick and comes with corners and flats. Looks substantial, but at one fifth the weight.

                                

 Finally, mortared and washed, here's my new original chimney, below.  

My contractor wanted to put the matching upper cabinet I made for this wall up first and then brick around it, so it was all tied together.

                                                 But instead, I insisted that he build the full chimney first, then mount the cabinet right up against the brick, so it looked like the chimney came first, long ago, and had always been there. Then the cabinet was added later onto it.




 To add some fun and bit more back in time feel, I also had Tim bury an hand-hewn railroad nail in a course of mortar, high enough to hang some period or playful piece.  Ideas and images for what might fit are welcome!

I am pleased that I was able to bring the house story into my kitchen with one piece, but I was careful to do it with real materials and textures. I didn't play at "old." I used authentic finishes to recreate it.
 
(To see a slideshow of these pictures, click on any picture in the post.)

My Choices

Our baby’s on the market.

and not at all surprisingly, all my initial fears that she won’t be good enough have resurfaced. 

My ideas, my reworks. 

Will I succeed in attracting the people who share my attitudes? 

Is it the right story?  

I’ve toured the rooms,  and while my head knows they’re looking at it from their needs, I’m feeling emotional about it.

Do they see us?

Where IS that Tape Measure?

During that first big weekend of phase1, I had created all the work areas in the house. I  hired two grunts ( thanks Matt and Joe) to move all the furniture pieces against the walls in the big space in the back. We emptied contents and they moved the pieces where I directed. With their strappin' young muscles, it was done in 40 minutes.

That left the center of the great room as “staging” for all work. It was hard to make snap decisions about where to stack every little thing I needed to temporarily move, but in the end, the house felt mostly organized. Every choice had a reason, and the work areas for all of phase I felt prepared and set-up.

But now, tools have crept back into almost every room…like dust bunnies. They just rolled into corners and on top of fridges. And as they moved, my sense of temporary order melted with it. Now clutter, even important clutter feels everywhere, but I don’t know where that is…and I spend too much energy trying to find things.  Being in the middle of the project managing and running around keeping the schedule tight so those rooms are ready for mid- January, means I can’t take another day to re-organize. Besides, the octopusian reach of my general contractor means it will happen again, as terrific as he is.

Uuugh!!!!! I’ve just got to fold that “finding task” into my job description. It’s wearying. 

If you can, no matter if you're doing the work or hiring it: Be a containment nazi about where things are. Restrict places for  tools- have someone- you , or a work person - grab stuff at lunchtime and again at day’s end and put them back where YOU want it to be. My work team swept and left the place totally clean each day, but they didn’t re-center their tools. Part of it was because they offered us their tools for our tasks- hanging pictures for example goes much faster with a cordless drill. But part of it was that their level of happy meant their tools only needed to be  mostly organized in heaps, somewhere. Just be aware that you can ask for the level or organization you need, if you’re living there while they work.

I am the Perfect Crash Test Dummy - Part 2

To be as accurate as possible, I realized I needed to include the other side of how I experience sharing life and space with other people.

 I do need my own space, literally and figuratively. But when being around other people is a choice, rather than a requirement, I can enjoy it. I grew up with five brothers and sisters, and sometimes I miss the feeling of a house overflowing with people and activity and conversations. When a musical band I’m in is clicking, it doubles or triples the excitement of performing over playing by myself. When I was a writer and living in Seattle—and they had finally invented laptops—I often would take my computer to a coffee house and write. I enjoy the feeling of having life flowing around me, without having to interact unless I choose.

I can also enjoy what Loni and I call having people “flow through” our space. When I lived in Moenkopi, we had a constant stream of people coming to stay with us at the mission. It was part of our role as a voluntary service unit to host the people from all over the world who were using the “Mennonite Your Way” network to travel across the country cheaply and, in our case, see the Hopi and the Grand Canyon.

Back before the Internet, we never exactly knew who would turn up next, or when. And often as not, they weren’t people with whom I would have chosen to spend time. But there were enough people who were interesting, or who asked in-depth questions about our work in the village or the Hopi, to make having new arrivals be something like opening an unknown present at Christmas. I became good friends with several of our return visitors as we got past surface impressions and got to share and know each others’ lives.

It seems for me it’s a combination of having the right to choose whether to share time/space with people, and who the people are. I know that no one usually has a pure choice about this; I’ve spent lots of time being polite with travelers and others because it would be rude to just leave. But being at home should mean being relaxed and more yourself, so for me to feel ‘at home’ around others means I have some level of choice about sharing.

I don’t yet see how all this can happen in our 1908 Victorian. Having seen Loni’s gift for space planning, and her sensitivity to what people need, I believe that if anyone can figure it out, she will.

But this is my life and our lives and our home, and I’ll have to live with this however it turns out. So sometimes this project does really feel like being a crash test dummy…