Category Archives: Home Design

If all goes according to schedule and carefully-plotted plan, next week may bring about the completion of our kitchen renovation. I’m not going to tempt fate by predicting it will happen, as there is always room for a delay or two, and I no longer get my hopes up for what might never be, but things are looking tentatively good.

When most people told their tales of warning and woe regarding their own kitchen renovations, they mentioned that the toughest part was the two-week waiting period between when the majority of the kitchen is done, and the time that the counter-top gets installed. That wait, to allow for the granite template to be measured and made, and then for the stone itself to be cut, would be the hardest part. They were right.

Since the sink and dishwasher cannot be hooked up until the counter is in, we are in a holding pattern, and at the mercy of the stone cutters. There is excitement in that, though, and some input allowed as well. After driving to New Jersey to select the perfect piece of granite, I wanted to be sure that the best portion would be featured for the peninsula – the focus of the kitchen and dining room – so we stopped by Empire State Stone to determine where the cuts would be made. I wanted to feature the most striking variation in the stone for that part. I’d never been a big fan of the uniform consistency of some granite, but when I was shown pieces with dramatic veining and interesting gradations, I was a convert.

We walked out to the two slabs of granite we’d selected (Betulare), and a gentleman placed the cardboard template of our countertop over the stone. We moved it around a bit, turned it on its side, and found the best selection that incorporated the most pronounced variations. It’s set to be installed next Wednesday, followed by the backsplash. And then, at long last, the kitchen renovation will be complete. We’re almost there…

I’ve known since the first day of this kitchen renovation that we had the best contractors in the business, but that was confirmed when I turned on the television and let ‘Renovation Realities’ on HGTV run through a few episodes. The premise of the show is that a husband and wife (no husband and husband, or wife and wife just yet) tackle a home improvement project (usually a kitchen or a living room) and go through the trials and tribulations of non-experts attempting jobs only an expert should be executing. After another hapless couple failed to figure out how to open the plastic packaging of a tape measure (come on), I breathed a sigh of relief that we had the expertise, know-how, and execution of Skylands Services. I cannot expound upon their virtues enough.

If you look closely, you’ll see that the kitchen is filling up. Yes, that’s the refrigerator! And the beverage center! And the oven!! Do you know how excited that makes us? You can’t know, because you’re probably able to get something out of the fridge or pop something into the oven right now if you so desire. We almost didn’t have these valuable items for this frigid weekend, thanks to a delivery issue at Lowes, but Andy got on the phone and called in another truck to make the delivery happen. It was later than originally scheduled, but the guys at Skylands rallied and installed them so we could at least survive until Monday.

In addition to protecting us from what we didn’t know, (their advice to not pay in full for items not yet delivered proved invaluable) they also offered sound and creative solutions to problems and design questions, while taking into consideration our wishes and whims (and we all know how whimsical some of us can be). More than that, though, it was their unfailing attitude in the face of any setbacks, and an indefatigable can-do spirit that lifted both Andy and myself every morning (often showing up and starting the job before we were even out of bed). That’s the kind of finishing touch that makes a contractor go from merely competent to practically perfect.

It turns out that my somewhat-celebratory post about getting over the hump regarding our kitchen renovation was premature at best, fate-defying at worst. While I was in Boston, much progress was made, as seen by these photos. The cabinetry is in place, and there is finally a sense of what it will look and feel like when complete. This is the moment I was really waiting for, and it comes with a bit of relief, as I was worried the dark wood and additional line of cabinets would close things in too much. The removal of the wall between the dining room and kitchen, however, achieved the desired effect of effectively opening the space up.

As wonderful as all this was to see, it did not come without a price. That price was the fingertip of one of the workers, who accidentally sawed it off in our garage. Being that I was away in Boston, I didn’t hear the screams. Andy did, but by the time he made it to the other side of the house the poor guy was already en-route to the hospital. They said it was just the tip, but isn’t that what all guys say? What’s worse is that they couldn’t find it anywhere in the garage. I was assured that they did an extra-thorough job of sweeping up that day, but I’m still waiting for the thing to come crawling into the house and begging haunting us forever. (I didn’t ask which finger.)

Aside from that bloody snafu, the project looks to remain on schedule, with the template for the granite countertop being measured and designed, hopefully before the storm delays anything. Once that happens, there’s a typical-two-week waiting period for the granite to be cut. Everyone has said that was the toughest wait, and I think that might be true. The first waves of renovation fatigue are starting to kick in. I may have to make one more trip to Boston… or somewhere else.

It’s far too soon to say we’re out of the kitchen woods just yet, but when you have a visible bit of final-product – like the floor and the cabinetry seen below, it gives one more joy that would reasonably be warranted. At the time of these photos, the contractor said they were about half-way through the project. That was quite the happy bit of news, as it seemed rather early. I was not about to complain about that though, and if things have progressed accordingly then by the time this post goes up we may be ready to have the granite countertop template set into motion.

At my insistence, we went with the large (24”) tile size for the floor, set on a diagonal. Andy was against it at first, despite my explanation that it would make the space appear larger (he didn’t believe me until the woman at the tile store said the same exact thing – story of my life). Now we’re both thrilled with it, and the shininess, while making for a more slippery surface, reflects all the wonderful recessed lighting from above. My only concern with the darker wood color (I fought for white, but compromised my ass off whether anyone admits it or not) was that it would darken the space too much. Thanks to the floor and the lighting, however, my concerns were abated. Of course, I’m saying that before having seen the rest of the cabinets installed…

The way things look, however, is a jolt in the right direction, and though I still may have to visit Boston for a few more weekends, I feel like we’re over the hump.

In a strange way, part of me will miss the planning and the in-between flux of construction. It’s a nightmare and a headache and a dirty and dusty bit of work, but it carried with it the hope of what was to come. Once it’s all done, that will be it. But then the cooking can begin, and the gathering of friends and family, and, finally, the warmth of a home centered around the kitchen.

The kitchen renovation, while somewhat annoying, has not (to date, knock on a boner) been the traumatic experience that some people warned us about. A few minor issues aside, we seem to be on track for the original schedule to unfold as planned. That alone is impressive and worthy of gratefulness – and don’t think we don’t appreciate it.

It’s also been surprisingly uneventful being without a kitchen. The absence of running water is mildly bothersome, but we managed to set up the refrigerator and microwave in the family room, and it turns out we do more take-out than I realized. Minor adjustments on all fronts.

In the early days of moving the window and re-doing the ceiling, there were a few moments of chilly weather that seeped into the place, and when the tile floor was initially laid down we couldn’t walk on it for a day and night (resulting in the strange set-up of having to walk outside to go to bed at night). But with some pre-planning and preparation even that wasn’t a big deal.

I will admit that I miss cooking. We had a snowstorm a few weeks ago and the only thing I wanted to do while cooped up all day was make a collection of comfort food. I’d grown accustomed to trying out new fish dishes and other meals, and there really isn’t a possibility for any kind of food preparation at this time.

Yet the pay-off will be well worth it, and we’re already starting to see the results. The wall I’d wanted gone for twelve years is now history. The dining room walls, and a bit of the kitchen, have been repainted for the first time in as many years as well. (A subtle shade of green called, quite unironically, ‘Quietude’.)

The orange floor you see here is actually the “membrane” that they use as the base to hold the plaster (at least I think that’s what it is – Andy lost me in the translation). For a moment I didn’t want to change it, but cooler heads and pre-ordered tiles prevailed.

Coming up next, the orange goes away, and the first hint of cabinetry appears…

Most years I like to open in a quiet way, silently contemplating the stillness of the morning, gently sipping a cup of green tea while outside a red cardinal sits perched in a bush. This year will be different, and I’m opening it with a bang: the renovation of our kitchen, still in progress. While most of the major noise and banging has been completed, there is much work yet to be done, as the next series of posts will attest.

Luckily, there is a bang-up group of gentlemen who have been working on the project: Skylands Services. I cannot say enough good things about them. Not only are they on top of their game (as of this writing things have remained tightly on schedule, and the work has been executed flawlessly), they are also an affable and friendly group of guys who entertain concerns and questions with courtesy and aplomb.

When we indicated a possible change in plans and questioned whether a doorway opening we had originally laid out was big enough, they explained that not only was a vent in the way, but that the size was good because it left each side of equal proportions, thereby lending balance to the dining room area. (I’m fine with most issues if a decent explanation is made.)

Aside from their obvious expertise in such matters, they also clean up at the end of every day. We didn’t realize the importance of this until they did it, and we didn’t have to worry about tracking dust and debris throughout the rest of the house.

The kitchen renovation has not been mentioned here for a while, but since a few friends have been asking for pictures, here are a few from the early days of the project. Thus far, it’s been surprisingly, and happily, uneventful. There were no unexpected setbacks ~ no hidden asbestos or support beams in the soffit, no bearing wall issues, no crotch rot or something similar. We seem to be on track, and the company that is performing the contractor work is amazing – Skylands Services. (They even vacuum at the end of each and every construction day.)

To be honest, I was expecting something much worse (and perhaps, when I return from work at the end of this first sheet-rocking day, I’ll find it in inches of dust throughout the rest of the house) but to date there are no complaints. I had some concerns about the opening in the new expanded entry-way (which they explained as both a design and logistical necessity), and some questions as to the placement of the recessed lighting (also addressed), but every question was met with open-minded discussion and reasonable explanation. Also, contrary to popular belief, I’m a fairly easy-going guy when it really counts. I’ll take issue with the choice of crocs, but not with the placement of a wall when a venting duct is in the way.

I’m trying not to get used to all the space that suddenly seems so luxurious, because I know that once the cabinets come in it will close right back up again, but I’m counting on the removal of the wall that once separated the kitchen and dining room, and the expansion of the entryway, to alleviate the cramped feeling that previously caused problems. Sometimes, you just need a little more breathing room to feel good about things again.

I’ll post more photos as progress continues, but I also want to keep updates to a minimum, as I think a before and after post will be more than effective at expressing the changes than a gradual stop-by-step report. Of course, if things start falling apart, I may start a daily kitchen report, chronicling each setback and delay, but why dwell on the negative when things have so far progressed rather well?

One of the Beekman Boys recently remarked that a potted palm makes any space instantly elegant, or something to that effect. As seen in this photo taken at the Hamilton in Washington, DC, I think he’s onto something. I would qualify that by saying a potted living palm adds class and elegance. A fake one negates all of it.

Nate Berkus agrees. He claims there is no place at all for artificial flowers, and I tend to follow that lead. There are moments when they work, but for the most part avoid them, especially if done poorly. He advises using dried flowers, or other natural items like driftwood or moss to create an environment. Nothing cheapens a space faster than a fake houseplant, its plastic joints unobscured by its scant false leaves, sadly collecting dust and offering no healthy bit of gas exchange.

Keep it real. And if you can’t keep it alive, keep it dried. Just don’t fake it.

Our kitchen project, years in the planning stages, is finally being finalized. It’s a total renovation, with walls coming down, windows being moved, and the space being gutted. We’ve settled on a cabinet and counter designer (the marvelous Michelle at Builder’s Kitchens Inc.), a contractor (Skylands Services, Inc.), a granite supplier (Empire State Stone) and a tile place (Albany Tile, Carpet & Rug). So far, we’ve figured out the basic design and set-up, and ordered most of the initial big-ticket items. These early stages are the fun ones, or so I’ve been told, and once the real demotion and rebuilding begins I will be out of town for as much as possible (hello, Boston!) However, I’m bracing myself for a rather stressful and difficult ordeal – physically, mentally, and financially.

I’ve already told Andy I want some bit of budget buffer for if, and likely when, unexpected costs arise, but he seemed rather unconcerned with it. In fact, he was already planning other ideas for any leftover money, at which I laughed but didn’t bother to argue. I’ve learned to be patient and let myself be proven right when it all happens as I predict it will happen. (This is how it has gone for my entire life, so I don’t expect differently any more.)

I’ll document things as best as I can, and this blog will serve as a cathartic way of ranting and raving if things grind to a halt or I get crushed by a falling soffit. Demolition is scheduled to begin by December 2 – just in time for the holiday season! Already, we’ve moved the Holiday Party to my parents’ house (which means a drastically-reduced guest list – let’s just say that if you’ve never invited me to your house, you have no right or reason to feel slighted).

This is going to be a wild ride, and the only way we’re going to get through it is to hunker down and just do as I say. Sorry, but this is not a democracy.

(FYI – The feature photo that accompanies this post was the former wall-paper in the kitchen area – just to give you an idea of how over-due this is, and a dose of 70’s nostalgia!)

After several months of teasing (and being turned away at the door), Restoration Hardware (or ‘RH’ as they seem to have branded themselves) was finally open the last time I was in Boston. Having received their humongous catalog in the mail for a few years, I knew what to expect, and was suitably impressed with the three-floor-showroom at hand. I don’t know if you can actually walk out with any merchandise (it didn’t look like it, and I didn’t feel like addressing any of the numerous tablet-holding staff who somewhat uncomfortably outnumbered customers three-to-one), but the point of this store is to see what you like in the best possible light, even if you can’t really replicate what you see.

I’d heard the horror stories of an (almost)-opening night party that had gone dismally awry, but I knew that with that space there would be little way to go wrong, so the display rooms are suitably spectacular, in the subtle, rustic style of over-priced furniture that RH has made their trademark. On the numerous occasions (after the opening party) on which I tried to visit this place, I was turned away at the door by a friendly staffer, saying that the city had not yet granted them the building permits they needed to open. They offered me a 20% off coupon (several of them over the weeks) to make up for the inconvenience. I took them graciously, though I never any intention of buying. The beds that they were offering for $2500 and up were nice, but there’s no need to pay that for something an excellent upholsterer can do for a much more reasonable price-point.

Still, the idea here is not to purchase everything and recreate it (well, for the feeble-minded and rich who can’t think enough for themselves, that may be the idea) but rather to get inspired and see things that you might incorporate or add as part of a greater scheme. To that end, it achieves its goal (and I did see a chair that I would love to have in our home – this one). But I’m not fooled into thinking that by buying a piece or two, my home will instantly be transformed into one of these beauties. That’s just nonsense. Nonsense designed to sell overpriced burlap to hapless buyers who never had a clue. In that respect they may make a killing…

The featured pic here is the wallpaper we discovered a year or two after we purchased our house. Hidden behind a cupboard we were taking out, it was a nice little surprise from the 70’s. For campy atrociousness and vintage gay porn, it fits the bill (much like my current facial hair – hey sexy pornstache!) Yet for a home that you’re trying to drag into the new (now old) millennium, it had to go. Much like the last of the paneling that lined the stairway to the cellar. For years we kept it as it was – a faux-wood-grain, dark and dungeon-like, but too onerous to even contemplate painting. (Certain stairways run deceptively high – at its highest point this must have been at least thirty feet. Until you’re on a shaky ladder at that height, you don’t really realize how frightening that can be. I foolishly looked down and almost passed out.) The other peril of painting while wearing a sleeveless Patriots shirt can be seen below: paint gets everywhere, even under the watchful control of the most meticulous Virgo. But in the end, the results were worth the war wounds, and the final vestiges of 70’s influence have at last, eleven years into owning our home, been eradicated.

Armed with a new set of Marimekko bedding from Crate & Barrel, I set about to do some serious spring cleaning, starting with the hardwood floors. It’s not enough to simply sweep or Swiffer the place – that only gets the lightweight dust-balls and the top layer of dirt. You’ve got to go deep and scrub, and it takes a lot of elbow grease and, had I been wiser, knee pads. In a curious concoction that I’ve found leaves the floors both shiny and clean, I use a combination of Pine Sol and wood furniture polish, greatly diluted in a bucket of hot water. The astringent harshness of the Pine Sol seems to be balanced by the oils of the furniture polish, and the hot water makes removing stubborn stains easier (and more pleasant to use on a cold day). It’s something I devised after throwing a party or two where the kitchen floor was sticky with spilled drinks, and it works better than any other pre-fabricated cleaner I’ve found.

Starting in the bedroom, I got on my hands and knees, wiping the entire floor down, slowly making my way along the hardwood, scrubbing out what in some places seemed like years of dust and debris. A few lucky pennies were my only pay-off, until I paused and looked back over the work. The sun poured in through the bay window, and the floor was awash in the glow and shine of it all. It’s amazing what a difference it made, how much brighter the whole space appeared, and I was reminded of the movie crews that spray down the streets with water before shooting an outdoor scene. With the floors all shiny and new, I set to work on putting the new bedding on. This is a Marimekko design, “Lumimarja Celery.” The color of the branches in it works well with the wall-mounted headboard (and thank God – I made that headboard, and I do not want to make another). Luckily, there was a pair of curtains I found that continued the branch theme, so I installed those as well. When the wind whips by, that bay window is revealed to be less than air-tight, so the curtains act as a more-formidable-than-expected buffer. They also look pretty.

It is one of my favorite places to be, at one of the best times of the day, and, in the city I adore, sometimes it is enough simply to be. To stand still. To lie down. To let the first sun of spring enter and enlighten. It makes me smile.

This Calvin Klein ‘Bamboo’ bedding has been employed on at least one of my beds since 2000. It is, in fact, even older than my relationship with Andy. As such, we’ve been through a lot together. For the last several years, it’s been living exclusively in Boston, taking pride of place in the condo bedroom, holding its own against changing furniture, changing lamps, and even a new headboard. But with the spring comes a fresh palette, and we’re going to switch things up with a new Marimekko duvet cover. (Not to worry, the headboard will still work splendidly. The dull raw umber hue was selected precisely for its ability to mesh well with almost any other color.)

For now, though, a moment of recognition and honor before we retire this bedding ensemble. If sheets could talk, well… we’d rip them to shreds.