First Meal, New Kitchen

Really I can't blame them for looking so pissed off. Every day, there's a new order of business in here, and I try to at least keep the first feeding consistent in terms of location. Hugo snarfs his food, especially if he's nervous. Angus nibbles, especially if he's nervous, so we run into some issues of competition and territory with the feeding.

All in all, they're great dogs, and relatively adaptable to the contingencies of renovation. They like the tradesmen and assorted other visitors. Angus in particular, excels at meeting, greeting and learning all about what the electrician/plumber/painter/carpenter actually does, up close & personal. But, like me, they're sensitive to upheaval, so I think this weekend I'll whisk them off for a few days at the family manse in Baltimore. Upheaval, yes, but they'll enjoy the steady stream of affection and those with more generous hands when it comes to treats. Well, I could use a little of the same, plus some time with my family to recover a bit from the drone of constant work in my own house.

Lucky for me, my parents completed a big kitchen renovation fairly recently and they are basking in the glow of it. My mom bakes like she never has before, and it's just a pleasure to see how she and my dad are using the reconfigured space in unexpected ways. Like my house, theirs was built in the 1920s, and so the kitchen redesign is tricky for so many reasons (link and essay forthcoming) Also like my house, the reconfiguration of just a couple windows and doors made a tremendous impact on the use of the space, and also on the way light behaves in the room. Here I wish I had a better camera (better photographer too!) to demonstrate that point. It's astonishing to me how much it changes a space when you move a window up just a bit. Well, this will link into a whole new topic, because in the end, it's all about light.

Two Sheets of OSB: Priceless

While I was making my order at the lumberyard, I decided to throw in a couple of sheets of plywood--just in case something prevented us from getting decking on in a timely manner. (persistent rain, for example) Running with the theme of asking vendors to direct me to their "finest, cheapest" product, I went with OSB, which is not too heavy, not too expensive, and suitable for temporary walking surface, assuming you screw it down securely. For under $10, I've got a path from the door out to the garden, which is particularly important for Hugo, the elder of my two dogs. He's not nearly as nimble as Angus, who is happy to skip across the tops of the joists.

Seriously, when does all the upheaval stop?

Poor Hugo. He's old and has never been too comfortable with change.
That said, I realize how much it taxes my nerves to have construction near where I sleep and eat, and it's good to think about that. I'm always very candid with clients about how upsetting the whole process will be.
Today's goal is to cut out a bit of wall to the left of this door and install the new door in its place. Along the way, we'll run into some electrical work (note the receptacle to the left of the jamb.) It all came together beautifully today--like minds working together and getting it done. And we had some fun along the way, too. Isn't that what it's all about?
So here's Paul, who's not only great to work with, but great to think with, too. I know that it's tricky to have someone over your shoulder when you're trying to work it out in your head, so I have a great appreciation for Paul letting me sit in on that conversation and add my own two cents, because I'm working it out in my head at the same time. In the abstract, architects just design how it's supposed to look or work. It's extremely inefficient in a lot of ways. So in my own house I just go with what feels right, and it feels right when I have confidence in the guy holding the saw.
Here, Paul has stripped the trim off that old door to the pantry, and he's getting ready to make some serious dust by cutting up that plaster and lath to give an extra eight inches to the opening. I've been marking my cabinetry ideas with blue tape on the wall and floor, and that helps me visualize things better than the thousands of dollars of CAD programs and computer hardware in the office (though I use that stuff too...)

Here's what I hate about red clay

As I was working on the porch today, I thought about how much energy goes into trying to keep red clay out of my kitchen. Most dog-owners in this part of the world share that concern. It's a constant battle, and with a pair of terriers, it's an all-out war. After I took this photo a few years ago, I considered for a moment the idea of terra-cotta decor. But I hate that color. I hired a housekeeper who cleans floors like nobody's business, and I make do with a series of "mud-abatement" procedures at the back door when it rains.

That said, one of my primary motivations for redesigning the back entry is to keep the mud out. I started hosing it off some areas near the house and it just doesn't go away.