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. 

A Date with My Demo Man

TJ is getting into this full bore.

We've got just over two weeks until our contractor starts, and TJ has taken it upon himself to organize and do the entire new master bath rip out. We are going down to studs in what was the old laundry room. 

Door that leads to kitchen.

Wall that will have tub.

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:

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.)

New Room Setup

When one corner is set up…just that first reassemble of basic pieces without all the detritus of using it laying about, it’s so lovely and clean.

So spacious and inviting. It makes me want to give everything else away that cluttered it up. A good impulse I think, making me offload to the next degree. Simplify. Aerate.

So where did I put that phone charger? Damn, in that desktop drawer unit I don’t want to put on the desktop. And where do I put my pens if I don’t want a cluttered basket or jar of them on my desk? Ever the dance.

A Game Plan is Your Point of Departure

You know,

The first move into the new shaped space never fits the way 

you first planned it to work.

 Never.

Showing My Baby Part II

It’s cool! It’s working. 

I’ve created the “place” and ways to have privacy and also happily rub shoulders when they want. TJ keeps standing in front of the chimney and new upper cabinet, saying, “ This is just what it should look like. I keep forgetting it hasn’t always been here.” 

As we show the place to potential housemates,they smile as they walk through the house. Some have actually expressed that they can feel how I’m aware of their needs. (And our own, too actually, but they don’t know see that as much.) Places are “sweet,"  and special to them- like the little laundry room. And the upper deck that they can sit in even when it rains. “Oooh, can I do a veggie garden in pots up here?!” she asks. “Yes, it’s wonderfully sunny and veggies will love it up here.” I reply. 

They’re putting themselves into it.

The laundry room has an ironing board and folding area, and we hung a clothes rack right over the heating vent for "air drying." 

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.

Hinting at Story, Hinting at Period

Since I do not have hundreds of thousands for a total remodel and repair of this old house, there's just no point attempting to make this disjointed house tell a consistent, lovely story. Plus, I do want to experience the discipline of not having a "design budget." This is the reality of most budgets. So what to do?

Even as the story translates to juicy design elements throughout the house, I’m cutting it back. ... and cutting it back even more. Erasing most: I am NOT doing the picture railing throughout the public areas. I’m not repainting the existing trim that wonderful green, nor the walls the rich champagne. It's money and time I don't need to use up. It hurts- some, since the designer me can see how elegant it would look! No, instead, I'm understanding that I need just need a few hints.

To satisfy my design urge, I'm putting up beadboard to 76"  in two places: The hideous little hallway entrance to the kitchen - our S curve that you saw in my November 28 post, "Searching for an Affordable Honest Man", and the small hallway leading to the half bath. Ultimately the bathroom will get the new palette and beadboard as well. That palette will be bright white on the beadboard, champagne accent and on the high bit of wall remaining above the wainscoting, this wonderful dark heritage blue I found. That way the S-Curve will hint at Country when people enter, and also be brighter and way nicer. The palette reappears in the bathroom hallway as another hint of period and then may become my palette when I finish the master bathroom in the former laundry room. I'd love to have a beadboard and rich blue bathroom!

Another trick I may want to do - since the pretty green I was going to do as the common area trim is not happening now, is bring the white, the blue AND a more mellow green into the kitchen in "Florida Cracker" style, which really speaks to me and about me:

architect, Jim Strickland of Historical Concepts

The cabinets will be white generally, but there will be "surprises" of green and accents of the same dark blue in strategic places. 

Hmmm what color the island?!

The Kitchen

I figured out the kitchen today.

I’ve lain awake nights trying to reform what we call our "Vortex Kitchen" so it flows for 3 more people trying to prep or cook a meal at overlapping times in the evening. We have a big kitchen that can accommodate several cooks, except  for one thing: There’s this central butcher block island with a stove top right across from the sink. 

Great you think. 

But no. The real chopping space, and ALL the cabinetry is on the other side, so you spin around the island every time you need a bowl for mixing, a spice for seasoning the cooking pot, or a fork for stirring. We’ve crowded the island with canisters of utensils, and we just chop veggies on the tiny side areas by the cooking elements. 

But it hungers to be a collective kitchen…and now I know how to do it, and not have everyone feeling like they’re intruding into my kitchen, or waiting too late to start their own meal when others are finally at the sink washing up.

Ideally, with budget, I can accommodate a second cook with a second work triangle created by 2 sinks pivoting around a cook area. That what they teach you. But I might have 3 cooks, and 4 individuals trying to store food, and I don't have an ideal budget either. Two triangle areas, especially 2 sinks just may not happen. Luckily, I have a separated cook set up: My oven/convection microwave is around the other side from the cook top side of the island. So if I drop a free-standing range  into the place where the oven is, I would have 2 cook tops,  one on each side and …then, I’ve found a place next to the sink for a smaller fridge.

Wait, too costly. Think simpler, Loni.  Plus, if I expand the oven into a full stove top range, I may have to remove an overhead cabinet that's too close. No, storage is precious. Instead, I'll get a two-grill electrical unit that will plug in as needed, where it's needed, and use it as an expansion of stovetop cooking. Flexible.

 

Old Lady Furniture

I loved my Mom-in-Law.


And I had the rare gift of a second mom who actually thought I was good enough for her son. Don’t get me wrong, we had our differences – another time I’ll tell you how I had to fire her while she lived with us.  In all, she was caring and loving. But also like me, she had her own mind.

The reason I bring it up though is that one of our differences was our taste in furnishings. She grew up Chicago White Lace Irish and loved baronial antique pieces with curls and heavy white marble tops. Yes, I know, I know: Read that- valuable, but ick. I have never wanted to live with pieces that wear me. I was just twelve when I went through my colonial and 4-poster canopy beds phase. I’m very glad I grew out of it by thirteen. Even more so because what my folks failed to mention back then was that those were overly polished pressed wood, Levitz-quality reproductions. Oooh, bigger ick.

So TJ and I are emailing back 'n' forth with pictures of furnishing pieces that create “the story." "Like this?” He asks.  Do we want a trestle? Pretty, but they get int he way of all the human legs we need to put there.

What kind of tables says country house to me?

What kind of rugs? Those oval rag rugs in dreary colors? Ooooh, more ick.

Search for farm or country and you get tons of banal, weary looking kitsch that fails to delight to my heart. I’m selling my lovely smaller dining set in glass, with wood and green metal. I grew up hoping someday to live in Manhattan and have a sleek but warm wood taste. I love lean but playful, rich colors. I adore textures and repeating lines. I love the materials of  farm- real wood substantial, but not farmhouse.

I warn you, if you’re stepping through this process as we are, and writing your story, be sure you want to live in what you create too, even if it's perfect for the house. It’s your home, make it tell YOUR story! A modern story inside an older house if it's you, is what you must do. Being a designer and space planner, I could do a true to 1908 period story, but only if that’s the story I want to live with!

I‘m modifying the house's story to have more straight lines to read, “Modern Rustic Country.”

In Search of an Honest, Affordable Man

OMG, what a pain! 

Searching for a reliable general contractor. I’m jumping into recommendations at trusted local forums, ones I’ve relied upon for years, and they’ve changed. The best ones have been found out, and now the GC’s or workmen are writing their own recommendations as clients. Sometimes I can tell, but sometimes I can’t. I hate that I can’t trust them anymore. Damn. Damn. Damn. 

And there are dozens to sort through. I’m tired just looking. They’re hungry and in need. But I’ve had bad, graceless work done and have leaks to this day, so I need to get a good person. I’m turning to people I know, but most don’t pinch a penny quite the way I am attempting to here. So when I say,  “Can you adjust to the finish level consistent with my house?”,you can hear them thinking, 'Grand Old Victorian.'

Not quite!

In Search of an Honest Man

Okay so we’ve determined a miniscule budget on purpose - $25,000 -  to be able to add three housemate to our household!

I’m determined to save the rest for my business' growth. I also need to see if I can really squeeze the dime as we all must these days. DIY time wherever possible. We will do all the priming, painting and finishes and reuse everything we can. Good for the planet, good for the pocketbook.

But still we must move a laundry, split the great room into new work studios  for TJ and for me, add a new bath and master closet, renew an upstairs tub, add cabinetry and another fridge to kitchen for the housemates, relocate hallway and pantry storage, add a new deck railing and roof, and spruce up the outside. Oh, and also cordon off a section of the backyard with a low fence for our pooch Dash, so a housemate doesn't inadvertently let him out of our gate when they park their bikes. Oh, a lockable bike rack too.


( add planned AFTER house sketch)

I no longer have the shoulders or knees for rehab myself though I tell you, I yearn to do a little tear-out. Oh the pleasure of a wrecking bar. You can’t imagine how just plain good it feels to yank a wall down! Plus I no longer have my hubby General Contractor/builder to coordinate the order of workmen. Or a sense of what this all would cost here in the Bay Area. I need a GC. 

Sigh.

A Different Lens

The goal of my house make-over is not a beautiful design. 

Sure, I want to tell the right story somehow and make it attractive. But it’s just so clear that the point of my design work is two-fold: to be as miserly as I can with the dollars I've allotted to the project, and to make sure that the flow and use of the house is really transformed to comfortably hold and respect multiple residents’ individual needs. That brings a different eye to the task of interior architecture. It's space planning pure and simple, one that I dearly love. It’s the human element of dwelling design. 

Yes, I adore choosing palettes and finishes that tell that story.  But in this project, that's icing.

My success happens when the room works for groups of individuals that all want to make a meal, whether they want to eat together or not….

No Silk Purse, but Still

I'm surprised, and relieved,  at how much Rach's outside perspective and fresh eyes brought to this effort. She gave us our home’s "story." 

As we walked through the common areas designing, she suggested we make the dining room the gathering space, using a large farm table. 

As soon as she said "farm table", it pulled everything together in my and it turns out, TJ's minds. Now, as I think about the changes we need to make, I am choosing things that enhance the story. Plus of course, Rach and I have been talking color and a few pieces to warm the living room up visually, while I am thinking space design for a collective. It's been a great melding of talents.

Thanks, sweetie, we have our story. The ugly toad will hardly become a prince by our redesigning “kiss”, but maybe an earthy farm gal.

A Former Resident's View of Toadhall

My 27-year-old daughter came for a visit last week, and I got fresh eyes about my house. She’s lived in several apartments, and has also shared houses with owners in San Francisco, London and New York.

She helped us winnow down what we "must do" to make it worthy, while also helping us see beyond all the beaten up, poorly done, "needs work" things I can't not see anymore.

She reminded me that she’d always loved this bedraggled, imperfect house, and everything that she loved about it is still here- the gorgeous light through the rooms, a mix of big celebratory spaces (where we even added a disco ball!), and small niches that I’d helped the family create to give us each our own bit of privacy. The neighborhood is terrific, historic, great character, safe with all sorts of hip and funky and fine places you can walk to, plus it’s an easy trip to “The City” she loves.

These are all things our housemates will crave. If the group spaces are welcoming, and there are small details in the intimate corners for ease and privacy (that's my job), plus access to so much in the area around us, then we have real amenities to offer.

Before & Bleak

Oh...

So, this is the classy way the stone base of my fireplace was finished in the living room. Notice the nail left embedded in the mortar:

And here's a corner of my dining room floor:

And this is my stair handrailing...really:

I'm looking at the house again, "for the first time." How will others see it. Oh, ick! I'm realizing again that my house is not well done. It's not an arts 'n' Crafts beauty like the rest of the neighborhood (which is great BTW).No, our old girl was built across the Bay from San Francisco during those frightening years immediately after the1906 quake, "Quick, get me outa San Francisco."

Then it was badly updated in the 1960’s by someone with no taste nor care about what they did. I mean, I won't even go into the scotch-taped electrical outlets we found, which we redid immediately. But we're still living with the most graceless, ugly river rock fireplace. (And I adore rock fireplaces, so that's saying a lot!) 

The lovely high curved ceilings were dropped and squared off with drywall and the knock down surface texture on the walls is so heavy-handed in places you can see how the beer party progressed as the guys worked. Many walls have double drywall. (I’ve yet to figure out why, since it would’ve been more effective and less costly to just blow insulation inside.) 

The double walls bury the lovely historic dimension of the trim so it loses the raised profile that catches light and casts small shadows- what creates trim's character. 

Whenever someone added something new, they just cut-off the end that was in the way. No need to realign anything. Oh, it's so sad how poorly things were done in places. The kindest thing a real estate agent could tell me about the house years ago was that it didn’t “tell any story.” 

It’s a total hodge-podge.