Kitchen, Continued: "Back to those things we said we'd do when we toured the house the first time"

Ever since we moved in, there's been this strange cabinet-where-a cabinet-used-to-be-or-something, next to the refrigerator. The previous owners put their trash can there; we opted to put the trash can elsewhere so we could pack it full of crap:

   

I kid. Anyway, the first time we toured the house, we were all like "we'll put a wine fridge there!" Sure. Only.. a "wine fridge" has never been anywhere really close to halfway down The List. ("The merest thought had not the inkling of a possibility to begin to cross my mind...") We'd halfheartedly "measure" any wine fridges we stumbled across at Target, decide they were too wide or something and go buy popcorn.

BUT.

We're trying to shape up the kitchen, if you hadn't noticed. What with the new and refinished countertops, new sink, new faucets, and tiling project--it seemed like time to do something with the un-cabinet. THEN we just so happened to find the cheapest and most-appropriately-dimensioned wine fridge we'd seen yet. So, Merry Christmas to us:



If anyone's looked into these things you might be thinking to yourself, "but those aren't meant to be 'built-in'! It says so on the side!" Welp, thanks to the weirdness of this cabinet area (I still don't know why the door got cut off, whenever it did), there's actually built-in dead space to the sides and back of the unit. Its little vents have all kinds of room to do their thing. So, uh, chilled beverage anyone?

Another Lamp Meets My Insatiable Desire to Spray-Paint Things

I'm getting pretty efficient with this, I found. Wasn't my first rodeo. To the pictures!

Another day, another brass lamp.  This one came from the Habitat ReStore, and was $3.

Enter gold-braid-trimmed Goodwill lampshade, bought with another $3 lamp.. 5? 6 years ago?  I didn't hang on to it on purpose, exactly... but it's managed to survive three moves. At least it's durable.

The living room rug came bound with these strips of woven canvas tape stuff. I saved them, to cover unsightly gold lampshade braid, of course. (Shrug.)

Wha-bam! 10 minutes with Rustoleum UltraCover in Slate Blue, and some hot glue. 
This lamp sits in the Captain's Quarters and didn't have to match anything; I just wanted to paint it blue. I.. like to paint lamps.  IS THAT A CRIME.

Sidebar: Spiraled! (Or, Why Didn't We Do This Months Ago?)

I don't know if I've mentioned the Cookbook Project or no--but chances are, all of you reading this already know we have this cookbook that we're trying to cook our way through 'Julie & Julia'-style. Only, you know, cooler... because we're not whiny about it. Most of the time.
Anyway, it turns out that softcover cookbooks aren't really up to that kind of daily abuse. Here it is, about  seven months and over a hundred recipes in:

After about the 30th page fell out this weekend, I finally remembered to take it with me to work (there's a Kinko's/FedEx Office/whatever nearby).  For about $5 they cut off the spine, punch holes and throw in a coil.


Giggle.  And look! It lays flat!  Win. 



That's all. Back to regularly scheduled programming...

Vanity on Stilts

About five years ago I bought a solid-looking nightstand from the local Goodwill for--and my memory is rusty--something in the neighborhood of $5.  I needed something to put my TV on in the apartment I was moving to, and space was at a premium. The drawers were deep enough for all myVHS tapes of recorded shows (no DVR for the graduate student, nosiree), and the TV was an exact fit. Sound odd? Somewhere I have pictures of it in its former function (will add if I can find them.)

When the Mr. and I set up house, it returned to life as a bedside table. Eventually, when we decided it was time to actually get a bedroom set (post forthcoming), it found itself without purpose. Alone in the world, long separated from its twin and (I presume) matching headboard. Probably a dresser or two, too.

With all the shuffling around we were doing in the bedroom, I lost the place where I used to keep all my primping paraphernalia.  Makeup, headbands, hair dryer, jewelry, etc., etc. Aha!, I thought.

Turns out the legs were held on with screws, which left some nice squared moulding around the bottom edge.

We found some legs at Home Depot, for $6 each, and the corner plates ($2) to attach them.

It was a pretty easy project; four legs, some glossy white paint, and "stainless steel" spray paint on the hardware:

It's now tall enough that I can do my makeup with a mirror sitting on top, and the space underneath fits a laundry basket.  It's happily sitting in what used to be dead space between our bedroom and our bathroom.

Before-n-after: Winged Rocker

Here are some shots of the new rocker (see LRoomarama Part II), before, during, and after the reupholsteration. Before (with a potential new-upholstery swatch stuck to the back cushion): Next we have the (nasty) pieces taken off and laid out on the new fabric as patterns. When I took them off I realized that the bottom used to be pink, and that the top was newer. I think somebody tried to reupholster the top to match the (already faded and yellow-looking) bottom. It was also clear that it had been reupholstered many, many times--judging from the number of nail/tack holes. After I got all the upholstery off (the cushion on the bottom was wrapped in muslin, and I didn't want to touch it. See below.) I cleaned the heck out of it. In the picture below, the left arm has been cleaned, the right not--all together now: "Ewww." So. Um, the cushion. I don't know how old this thing is, but it's definitely part.. hair. I only guessed at the seat cushion, but then when I had to take the back off because both sides where upholstered... The picture doesn't do it justice. We have batting. We have straw. And the brown stuff.. is hair. Disturbingly non-horsey-looking hair. I, um.. tried not to touch it. If you don't want to know whether I put it back, then don't ask. And... done! Fabric closeup. It's cream-y crosshatch-patterned nubbly stuff with sort of a mustard-yellow background. It looks much lighter in the pictures than it is in "real life." Sorry for the blurriness. It's late and I can't hold my camera still enough to take a picture when it's dark outside. It went well, all in all! I burned myself with hot glue (could have predicted that), and I'm going to put more tacks in the trim when my back recovers (there were some weird angles to get into, there). There were also some dicey moments with the back cushion (the one that may or may not still contain unidentifiable hair). I'm really happy with how it turned out--provided my stapling job holds up. There are a lot of half-bent staples stuck in that frame. Next up's the sofa... after a nice, long break.

Well, it hasn't fallen down, yet.

So we have a tiny (as in 7' x 8') "office." I'm convinced it used to be a pantry, or something, but the agent listed it as an office, so we went with it. When it comes down to it, it's plenty of room for a desk, a chair, and a bookcase. We also have two filing cabinets that are a little worse for the wear (one was originally my sister's, and is in good shape but for having been moved four or five times; the other came from beside a dumpster at my old apartment complex and claims to contain "Rob's Professional Files." Sometimes I wonder who Rob was, and whether he had another filing cabinet for his unprofessional files.) Right. Anyway, the point is, they're different sizes, so stacking things on top of them looks kind of weird. Eh, here's a picture. It illustrates the "problem" better than anything:

Yeah, that's ugly. Needless to say, none of our furniture quite offered a solution ("yea tall, deep enough for two filing cabinets, wide enough for two printers on top and a trash can underneath"), so we tried our hand at furniture-making. Anybody who actually builds furniture might suffer some sort of trauma seeing the following ("you used L-brackets where!?"), so.. warning. Construction pictures:

Top board, left, and legs. The top board was precut 2' x 4' 1/2" plywood (about $6, I think), and the legs were actually deck rail supports. They were way cheaper than the actual "table legs" we found at Home Depot ($3 apiece), and longer, which turned out to be a good thing. The top, put together:

It sat like that for a week or two. Then we got around to putting the legs on it:

Okay, so it's not going to win any awards. That back brace looks kind of stupid, we realize. But you won't really be able to see it, and if it keeps our printers from falling on the floor, bring on the stupid. I used some of the leftover quarter round from trimming the baseboards around the top edge, and painted the whole thing white to match the trim in the office:

I find I'm often painting things at, like, dusk. So if you come visit, don't stare at anything too hard. It's surprisingly stable. We got it in, festooned it with printers, and I made it a tiny curtain to match the valances I'd made for the windows in there. Here's the "after" shot:

With the paint and lots of L-brackets, it came to something between $20-$25, which is about as good as we could have hoped for. We'll just hope it keeps standing...

Less than $10: An Ode to Craigslist

Speaking of "less than $10," my sister-in-law informs me that somebody on HGTV recently spray-painted a chandelier like we did. Maybe we should demand royalties. But back to Craigslist: for eight bucks apiece, we picked up these two chairs from (as it turned out) someone who lives about three miles down the road from us. They're a neat shape, and the finish looks great with our dining table. They needed some cleaning up, and besides a minor flaw that we discovered when we got them home (their arms are about a quarter of an inch too high to fit under the table), I think they're going to work. I took off the cushions (one was red, one was green. I didn't ask.):

...and recovered them with upholstery fabric.

I may recover them again at some point. This fabric, despite how the picture looks, is not at all pink, but different shades of gold; some blocks are warmer, and some have a greenish tint I thought would blend nicely with the green chairs and the gold-ish walls. Ultimately, the checkerboard bit is a lot less subtle in our house than it was in the store and I still may keep my eye out for other options. At any rate, the Christmas cushions and stains and such are gone and I'm happy with that for now. We still have to figure out how best to fix the arm-height problem. So far our plan is to saw a half-inch off the bottom of all the legs. Either that or screw something into the feet of the table that raises it up enough. Suggestions?

Farming the Back Yard

Okay, other folks would call it "gardening." A couple of weekends ago the Mr. set out to tame a very overgrown pre-existing garden plot in our new back yard. It was already fenced off (and protected from the munching of larger animals by chicken wire):

The above was after a good bit of heavy weeding. And de-snaking. Yes. Snakes. That's when I went inside and said, "Tell me when to come take another picture. I'll be buying stilts off the internet." Here's part of the ridicumongus pile of weeds he pulled out of it (by the end it was about five feet in diameter and came up past my knees):

Tilled up, and ready for topsoil:

Note the monstrous rosemary bush in the bottom right. Other survivors of neglect included some chives and a spearmint plant. And... planted!

Because I'm twelve years old, I found the following hilarious. He mixed this into the topsoil before spreading it:

"We are Number 1 in the Number 2 Business."

And, voila! He was able to cram tomatoes, okra, several kinds of pepper, some cucumbers, some squash, and others into that space, and so far they seem to be doing pretty well. We also planted a nice little herb garden in an existing window-box-like planter on one of the fence walls in the back yard. It's going to be nice to read "fresh [insert name of herb]" in a recipe, and not roll my eyes. I don't know about you folk, but buying anything like that fresh at a grocery store in these parts adds up fast, so I never do. Ha, dried Basil. Ha.

Kitchen Countertop Phototacular

I've been promising this for awhile; here (finally) are some pictures of the kitchen, all put back together. First, a small (sorry) picture of the way it used to be. You can't see much, but the countertops were dark and had a thick shellac on them.

Now, after much sanding (thanks to the Mr. and his dad) and staining (thanks again to the Mr. and his sister):

(Picture 3 is pretty much a wall-o-wedding gifts. Y'all will probably recognize a few things, there. Thanks again, everybody!) We used Cabot Polystain (a water-based stain/sealer combo) in Pecan Satin and so far it's held up really, really well; it's really resistant to spills and made for a really hard surface. I'm not too worried about dinging it. I'm sure it will happen, at some point, but we're having to be much less careful with it than we expected we would.

Back in Business

We're lucky enough that this house came with an attic fan. It's truly fantastic, with a few windows open it's like having the A/C on full blast. However.. it either hadn't been used much in the last few years or this past winter was particularly rough on it, because the first time we ran it the belt broke. Considering that for all we know that belt was as old as the fan/house (it certainly looked it), this wasn't too much of a surprise. It gave us an excuse to visit the local hardware store, which we'd do with or without an excuse for the experience. (I have no idea how anybody ever finds anything there unless you've worked there for.. 40 years? More? Really. I'm not exaggerating. We've given up, we just ask for things we need; this time, the Mr. said, "Attic fan belt broke," and held it up for inspection. "Sure did," was the response; the proprietor disappeared into another room, and after some rustling and the sound of something small scattering across the floor, returned with an intact version of the exact same belt. We figure there's a good chance the 'new' one is as old as the 'old' one, but does it matter if it works?) The Mr. reattached the belt and the fan (big, loud and scary-looking as it is) is back in business. Ahh, moving air. It's great--except that we underestimated how much pollen was still floating around in the air and having it on all day yesterday meant that everything is now covered in a quarter-inch dusting of yellow fuzz. Live and learn.

Flatpackin'

I've already mentioned our trip to our local IKEA (sidebar, those of you out there who actually do live in one of the, what, six? major US cities to have its own big blue store of Swedish modern wonder: to us, "local" means "closer than the others," and a trip to one still means hours--yes, hours--on the highway listening to our own tailpipe rattling, because no matter who you are those boxes don't fit in the back of a Jeep and aren't we lucky that IKEA knows that about us and provides nylon cord for us tie down our hatches if we're unprepared to do so? For some of us, IKEA shopping takes determination and a certain amount of faith in complimentary insurance mechanisms), and there's not much to say, other than we bought a couple of very large pieces of furniture. It's always easier to put them together than I expect it to be. Our MARKOR still flat-packed:

It might sound stupid, but I find the whole thing less intimidating if I separate all the bits-and-pieces first (it's faster, later on, but also make us familiar with the parts so we're less likely to use the wrong thing at the wrong time). A gajillion pegs, bolts, etc., during the sorting process:

45 minutes (or so?) later:

"Bam." Okay, I stink at photojournalism. I was too involved to take pictures. It's now filled with books--really sturdy. We actually got this because what we were there to get turned out to be, like, two inches too big for the wall it had to go on. This particular one wasn't something either of us had picked out online; for some reason it looked a lot better in the store, and we're really happy with how it went up. The other giant thing we got was a wardrobe--the LEKSVIK 3-door, to be exact. We already had a dresser with the same finish. It's ginormous, but it does what we needed it to--we basically needed a second closet in our bedroom, where there wasn't one. I'll try to remember to take a picture of it.

The Miracle Gallon, part.. what, eight?

Yeah, this won't need much explanation. I've already waxed romantic over the Miracle Gallon. Here is yet another of its converts (hitherto known as "the dumpster table," "three-legs," "when are we going to get rid of that"). We saved it from the dump--holy cow, like, nearly two years ago--with plans to do something to it, and didn't, until now. (Read: definitely a case for the MG.) The Mr. lovingly reattached its broken leg and removed the duct tape that had previously been holding it there. (Yes, folks, we're moving up in the world.) It used to have a very dinged-up reddish (I'll call it "corporate office cherry") finish. I forgot to take a before picture, but I think most of you will probably remember it from the corner of our old living room. I got fancy with it, this time, and used some other leftover paint for an inset on the top. In process:

And, the finished product:

It's currently enjoying a second life as a side table for the aforementioned fauxfa. Two-inch painters' tape made that inset really easy.

Another Episode of 'Things that Were Brass, and Now Aren't.'

That about sums it up. I spray-painted something else--in fact, another light fixture. This time it was a two-bulb brass lamp (of the "bankers'" variety, I think?), purloined from the Mr.'s parents' garage. (Apologies if, by letting us have it, you expected it to stay brass-colored...) A "before" picture:

It then got the same treatment as the chandelier. Well, not quite. Home Depot doesn't sell the same spray paints that Lowe's does, so I tried one of those supposedly "hammered metal" ones. (Sidebar: I like the result, but I probably wouldn't go for it again; it seemed like it took a LOT of paint to get an even finish, and I think I like the matte metallic finish of the Valspar Metallic stuff I used before a little better.) Anyway, I wiped it down, taped off the pull chains and the bulb sockets and went to town. During (my toe was an integral part of the process):

I don't know how I escaped before, but for some reason this particular spraying left me completely paint-flecked. Maybe it was windier. Again, I'd suggest wearing goggles to avoid the "OMG I FLECKED MY EYEBALL" thing. I topped it off with a new JONSBO shade from Ikea, and voila!

I should have taken a closer-up picture of the finish. It does look hammered-metal-y. I'll try to remember to update.

Paint Paint Paint! Paint. Paint Paint. Paint?

Wow, words look really funny when you repeat them a lot. Anyway, I've gone slightly paint crazy. It's a new dawn, really, from all the anxiety over picking the right blues (I was really trying to avoid an "I've got the blues" pun, there--I hope you appreciate that.) So what started it all? Imagine with me, if you will: the perfectly ambiguous shade. It feels cottage-y and informal, yet mature and elegant. Reads as a neutral when you want it to, and a color when you don't. Now, for the cherry on top: imagine you were able to find an entire GALLON of this color-of-all-colors, mixed with the most expensive semigloss base sold at Lowe's.... for FIVE DOLLARS. Yes, because someone else shunned it, I have a whole gallon of Valspar "Signature Colors" Semigloss in "Cliveden Gray," which is, I think, the perfect color. (Or maybe--just maybe--it's not 'Cliveden Gray,' which is, in reality, far from the perfect color; instead of following its orders the paint mixing machine WENT ROGUE, and in a fit of creativity never to be understood or fully appreciated by those around it created a masterpiece...) Okay, whatever. I really like it. I'm going to have to rein myself in a little bit, though, because in the last 48 hours I've painted an armoire and a coffee table and I already have plans for a nightstand and a side table. And I haven't even used half the can. Turns out semigloss is a nice finish for furniture, and I wasn't kidding--this is the most chameleonlike color I've ever seen. In a good way. Pictures aren't going to do it justice, but here are the first two victims of my glee:

*Some of you might recognize this as the former bearer of art supplies and serving dishes. He has found new purpose as a DVD-and-board-game peddler in the family room. And yes, I just personified an armoire.

This was a thrift store find--a $15 coffee table that had a yellowy "oak" finish on it. The sides were veneered but the top was solid, so the Mr. sanded it down (getting some mileage out of that rotary sander) and stained it with the stain he's using on the countertops (spoiler!). Then the rest got the miracle-gallon treatment. This picture stinks, but without the flash it was too blurry. So, come see them. You'll swear it's cream, then you'll look at it again, and you'll be darned if it isn't sage green. Really.