My First Renovation

  When Erik and I got married, we moved into a great, surprisingly large 3rd floor apartment in a 100-year old Victorian home. I was sold on the place when I set foot in the 14 x 15 foot kitchen. (Although I do remember tugging on Erik's sleeve and secretly mouthing the words "I WANT THIS!" after I saw the bathroom, which had been earlier on the tour). Here's my best shot of a specific area of the kitchen *before*

The cabinets were painted in a dark, faux-wood grain finish. The hardware was, too, because I hadn't yet written a blog post about painting etiquette for this offender to read. And also because the internet didn't exist at the time. And also because I didn't exist. Moving on...

Here is one more shot that shows how barren the walls were when we signed the lease. Look really closely and see the hidden potential.

Did you spot it? Here's an enhanced version:

Oh, the chair rail. I had big plans for something two-toned and I couldn't wait to get paint up on the walls. My sister and good friend helped me paint the kitchen pretty over a nice spring weekend. The result (complete with my cluttered temporary solution to food storage):

Very pretty, right? I decided to go neutral on the walls so the room would be able to handle my wondrous rainbow of kitchen decor. The lower part is Behr Gobi Desert and the upper is Rafia Cream. High gloss white on my trim and chair rail!

The story seemed to end there for a time. The kitchen remained this way for about 18 months. You see, I always envisioned my cabinets in WHITE. Either side of the kitchen had a row of cabinetry, but it didn't match. Add in the fact that my landlord told me on day one that I could not paint any of the wooden surfaces in the apartment (Which was highly problematic given that 50% of my apartment was ensconced in dark wood paneling. More on that another time.)

I bided my time and warmed up my landlady. I paid my rent on the first of the month, was a good citizen, and only mildly harped on her about pretty-please-can-I-paint-the-paneling-and-the-cabinets-puhhleeease?!?!? And then. She. Said. Yes! And then I ripped the countertop off.

I may have left out the part where I told you how much I hated my countertop. I wish you could have scratched it with your fingernail and experienced the clay-like substance that it had become. I wish you could have seen the tiny little bug crawl out from behind the metal edging. And I wish you were there when I pulled that thing off like a mother lifting a car off of her trapped child.

Okay, I'm not THAT impulsive. I mean, that is exactly how it happened, but I had previously researched my replacement options and found that I could throw a new pre-fab formica top on there for less than $80. I also have a brother-in-law with big saws and a pencil behind his ear. And I know what you may think about pouring money into a rental, but I love to cook, and a large, clean work surface was invaluable to me for our remaining years in that house. Plus, our rent was considerably lower than any other place that size. By my estimation, the countertop paid for itself in about two weeks. Less if you factor in my happiness :D
And my landlord? She loved the result, of course. Wanna see the photo that helped attract a new tenant when we moved out? I'm quite proud of it.