Tag: Home Improvement

Some assembly required

Monica Lee2 Comments

Our story so far: After a middle-of-the-night phone call from the security company in April, Tyler threw on his clothes at our rental house and drove to the old church we were renovating to find a dozen boxes filled with cabinets stacked at the front door. And then a cop showed up.  

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I’m no policeman, but I can only imagine the officer found it strange that a bedraggled old(er) man would be loading his pickup with boxes in the middle of the night outside a church that was widely known in the village to be a construction site.

Of course, Tyler—who dressed in a hurry while still half asleep—didn’t have his wallet or ID with him.

But he proved his ownership of the church by punching in his security code and unlocking the door. He and the officer tiptoed through the church looking for the housebreaker who set off the alarm, and they found nothing. Whatever small talk Tyler made while on patrol must have assured the officer that yes, indeed, he was the owner not an interloper, and the cop made his getaway before Tyler could talk him into helping load the boxes of cabinets into the pickup.

We assume the cabinet company had hired a fly-by-night delivery company. Literally. And the delivery company thought it would be OK to leave the boxes outside the church at eleven o’clock.

In any case, these boxes of cabinets sat unopened in the rental unit for a couple of months before Tyler hauled them back to the church basement to assemble them.

Compared to sanding floors, putting together cabinets was easy work, but Tyler required all day to put together the drawers and cabinet pieces for our 132-inch bathroom vanity. In the basement, they looked black, and I initially thought we had received the wrong ones, just like with the errant kitchen cabinet. But no, in daylight, our espresso cabinets were the perfect color. (The other thought I had when I saw the assembled cabinets for the first time was, oh yeah, we need knobs for those cabinets, too. Another item to add to the to-do list.) After the countertop was installed, the upper cabinets in cream would flank the gently arched vanity mirrors on order from the glass guy.

master bath cabinets
The lower cabinets to the master vanity in place. Above on the plywood, a sheet of the tin from the basement we plan to use as the backsplash. (In the dark there, you can see the cabinet fronts from the kitchen stored in our shower.)

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Tomorrow: More cabinets. For the laundry room. Wait, there’s a laundry room? See it here.

Everything is really about lighting

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: Our carpenter trimmed out our master bedroom tray ceiling with crown molding and tin salvaged from the old Methodist church’s basement ceiling. 

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crown moulding rope lighting
Supernight, indeed. Someone hopes so.

To tuck into the crown molding of the tray ceiling, Tyler invested in some high-tech rope lighting that changed colors and could be controlled from one’s cell phone—because he’s a romantic like that.

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Today’s headline is a quote from Robert Denning, a 20th century American interior designer.

Tomorrow: How the bathroom cabinets came to be. Read about it here.

If the Sistine Chapel was the master bedroom in an old Methodist church …

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: Our carpenter trimmed out all kinds of nooks and crannies in the old Methodist church we were turning into our home.

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tray ceiling
Eventually, a ceiling fan will be centered inside the tray ceiling.

You-Can-Call-Me-Al also trimmed out our master bedroom tray ceiling with crown molding and tin salvaged from the basement ceiling. Originally, I had hoped to show off the original tongue-and-groove wood ceiling inside the tray, but I was overruled when Tyler determined he couldn’t repair the holes in it. So we covered it in tin which added tons of historic texture. The tin looked dirty against the bright white of the ceiling so it would need to be painted, but I had just the right distressed technique to try with it.

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Tomorrow: Ooh, the tray has secret lighting. Read about it here.

Small spaces, little joys

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: Tyler cleared the sanctuary floor in order to finish it, so our carpenter, You-Can-Call-Me-Al, got busy with trim at the old Methodist church we were turning into a home.

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You-Can-Call-Me-Al trimmed out the baseboard and the windows in the master suite, and among other details, he hung the linen closet doors and trimmed them out. Shaped sort of like a cramped confessional only without the screen between, those strange little cubby holes leftover in the master suite floor layout had become handy little closets for sheets and towels. All we needed was shelves and doorknobs! Oh, and paint. But at least now we could envision the closets instead of strange voids in the two-by-fours.

linen closet before drywall
Here are our two little side-by-side linen closets before drywall. This space is just inside the bathroom from the master bedroom.
linen closet
And here are our linen closets after You-Can-Call-Me-Al hung the doors.

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Tomorrow: The tray ceiling in the bedroom. See it here.

A window’s true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: Nearly every day, we checked finishing details off our long to-do list at the old Methodist church we were turning into a home.

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In fact, during the preceding month, You-Can-Call-Me-Al had replaced all the windows on the west side of the house plus the only one on the north side. Tyler guessed the old ones might have been in place as long as seventy years or more. The seals and gaskets were shot, and the wind blew right through them. The new ones looked virtually the same, only the new ones had two panes instead of four, but their insulation value was vastly improved.

fire escape in the late fall
Here’s how the west side of the church looked when we purchased it in November.
fire escape after new windows
Here’s a shot of the new windows. The fire escape, an eyesore, remains attached to the church, but we think we’ve found a home for it. One of our contractors needs a new deer stand, and he’s willing to barter work for it. So it should be gone by deer season.

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Today’s headline is a partial quote from Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, author of “On Death and Dying.” The full quote is “People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.”

Tomorrow: A temporary shelf. Read about it here.

It’s not what you start in life, it’s what you finish

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: We returned the scaffolding that had been crucial for finishing the ceiling of the sanctuary in the old Methodist church were turning into our dream home, and we finally had an unobstructed view of the fireplace.

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Tyler also wrapped up another project that, like the scaffolding, had been sitting around for months: The pickled, planked plywood for the second floor ceiling. Tyler started the project when we had the Solatubes installed in the roof (months ago), and then work lapsed for more pressing priorities. I finally finished painting the planks, and Tyler wanted them out of the way, so he and a helper nailed wood to the ceiling all day.

original second floor ceiling
The original second floor ceiling was nondescript.

The original ceiling (by original, I mean the way it was when we bought the church) was some sort of beat-up ceiling tiling boards. The new shiplap-ish planks, even untrimmed, were a vast improvement.

second floor ceiling
The new second floor ceiling is pickled, planked plywood. The windows were replaced, and trimmed out (but they still need paint).

Meanwhile, You-Can-Call-Me-Al replaced the old windows and trimmed them out. With the refinished floor, the vision for the second floor was finally materializing.

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Tomorrow: More windows. Check it out here.

There is no peace more delightful than one’s own fireplace

Monica Lee3 Comments

Our story so far: Finally, we had a few things to admire at the end of the day during construction at the old Methodist church.

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Back in January, Tyler spent the month demolishing the rest of the interior of the church and wringing his hands about how he was going to take apart the twenty-foot ceiling of the sanctuary. But then he found our drywalling team who came to the rescue by demoing the ceiling and putting it back together again. They also lent us some scaffolding which were used to install the faux beams, the ceiling fans and the restored sanctuary chandeliers.

Oh, and the stone on the fireplace to the ceiling.

fireplace before
Tyler poses for a shot of the fireplace chase he and You-Can-Call-Me-Al built. Plus the scaffolding which made it possible. (Tyler would have me tell you that what you can’t see is the hole he cut in the fireplace behind, and it was no easy task.)

Thank God (and the drywallers) for that scaffolding.

fireplace during
The fireplace, half done, peeking through the scaffolding.

But finally, months later, it was time to get it out of our great room. It obstructed the view.

You-Can-Call-Me-Al deconstructed it (single-handedly, which was a trick) and piled it into the back of the pickup. Tyler returned it to the owner, and now we could see the finished fireplace in all its glory. Ironically, or perhaps just as it should be, the fireplace occupied the same place the red velvet curtain did behind what was once the altar, the symbolic representation of the place where worshippers throughout history burned sacrifices (and probably enjoyed the resulting barbecued animal flesh). We would burn natural gas and enjoy the dancing flames just as much.

fireplace finished
The finished fireplace, minus the scaffolding (but not the ladders).

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Today’s headline is a quote from Marcus Tullius Cicero, a second century Roman statesman, orator and writer.

Tomorrow: Another finishing touch. Read about it here.

No place like home

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: My husband and I spent many months renovating a 126-year-old Methodist church into a residence, and we were getting close to wrapping up refinishing the original wood floors.

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Chapter 33

We had spent so many months thinking of the church as a work site, a project, a financial puzzle and unending to-do list, we had forgotten it was our home.

Home. The very word makes a person breathe easier. This place—this sawdusty, tool-infested, unfinished blank slate—was going to be our home, a place of refuge, a thing of beauty, a space to put up our feet and enjoy a roasty cup of coffee or an ice cold beer.

There was a moment at the beginning of summer after we’d finally squished the spiral stairway into the church and erected it in the corner, a moment when I was reminded, ah, yes, this place was going to be something special.

And then we went back to sanding floors.

unfinished railing
When we were gone for a long weekend, the metalworkers brought the almost-finished railing to the church for final measurements. You can see the basket spindles are still unpainted here.

But, as fortune had it, we went with the same spiral stairway company to fabricate our balcony railing. And when they installed the railing at few weeks later, those same feelings came rushing back. I think it was the instant gratification. Instead of building 150 walls or applying twenty coats of paint or driving back and forth to Home Depot, the railing got installed in less than two hours, and then it was finished. All that was left for us to do was dust it.

“This is really ours,” Tyler said to me as we sat by ourselves in our rolling office chairs in the great room at the end of the day.

“It’s going to be beautiful,” I said.

“Yup.”

We were in a good place, figuratively as well as literally. As we coasted down the side of the mountain that was finishing the floors, we had something finished to admire at the end of many days.

finished railing
Here’s a shot of the finished balcony railing. If you look closely in this “Where’s Waldo” picture, you’ll find the two office chairs in the great room Tyler and I frequently used to admire our work at the end of the day.

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Tomorrow: Summer flowers. See them here.

We age not by years but by stories

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: Tyler scored a deal on enough polyurethane to cover the floors of the converted church and then some.

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hall of history before flooring
Here’s a look at the original flooring in the hall of history, including a putty-filled patch job there on the right.

The floor of the Hall of History presented a unique challenge. The Hall of History, you’ll remember, was the fifteen-foot-long hall that led from the sanctuary to the back stairway where we imagined we could hang pictures of the church throughout history on its expansive, now drywalled walls.

But, oh the floor. The pine planks were certainly original to the 1894 construction of that portion of the church and had once been part of the entryway. Count how many feet crossed that threshold on the way to Sunday school or worship services! Imagine the Sunday best shoes worn by parents holding newly baptized babies or couples freshly married! Several repairs and patches in the flooring were evident. Besides ground-in dirt, it was covered in paint of various colors—yellow, red and aqua—and sported huge gashes, divots and seams. One had to squint hard to see the potential.

We considered an affordable wood-like tile or perhaps carpeting, but we hesitated spending good money on a hallway floor that would most certainly be mostly covered by a rug runner. So Tyler tried sanding it, only his goal on this floor was to reveal its history (appropriate to the Hall of History) and even it out.

It wasn’t exactly attractive (or perfectly level) when he was done, but we found the character we hoped to feature. With new thresholds and baseboards, the rustic floor might be described by a forgiving critic as charming.

hall of history after flooring
The hallway after two coats of polyurethane. It will need a new threshold into the great room (bottom of pic), but you won’t look perfect when you’re older than 100 either.

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Tomorrow: Chapter 33 opens. The beginning of the end. Read it here.

I smell a sale

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: A couple of coats of clear polyurethane was all we needed to show off the wood floors in the master suite and on the second floor of the old Methodist church we were turning into our home.

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In the sanctuary-slash-great-room, we had a lot going on already. Between the ceiling beams, the fireplace and the kitchen cabinets, the floor played only a supporting role. Plus, its rustic patina didn’t need any more attention being called to it. So we went with a driftwood stain that had a hint of green in it; this would tone down the red in the Douglas fir planks creating a neutral backdrop.

Now after days of sanding, we would be spending days applying stain and polyurethane. The hardest part about this was enduring the odor. Do you remember what the school hallways smelled like on the day the janitors applied vanish to the gymnasium floors? Sort of a pungent chemical stench crossed with a tobacco barn? The church stunk to high heaven, but it lasted only a day or two. Tyler’s obsession with industrial sized fans played in our favor here. He threw open the doors of the church and invited the fresh summer air in.

A feud between Minwax and Home Depot over which Big Box retailer could have exclusivity on the Minwax brand proved to be a windfall for us. One day when Tyler was renting a floor sander yet again, he spied an endcap display offering polyurethane for half price. He bought every last can.

polyurethane sale
This is not a story display; this is Tyler’s stash of half-price polyurethane in our great room.

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Tomorrow: How we paid tribute to history with the Hall of History floor. Read about it here. And you might be pleased to learn it’s the last installment of Chapter 32 about sanding floors.