It rained again today; a steady, slow drenching that has left the yard soggy and the mosquitoes enormous, and our spirits a little more down in the dumps than usual. We still haven't found summer hiding among the daisies and the peony bushes - but we've searched, quietly when mother nature wasn't trying to drown us, which seems like every other day again this year, and frankly, we're tired of it. But what can we do? Protest marches? Letter writing campaign? Facebook petition? It's a losing battle, we know, and someday we'll figure out that we haven't lost anything in days like these, except the ability to spot the normal perfectness that is all around us.
Life gives us what we need, not what we want. We know this, but we rally against life and try to find something to control, something to own, something to quiet the distant ache of uneasiness and unhappiness, something to fill us up and make us feel whole and worthy, of what we are not certain, but worthy just the same.
And so we struggle, instead of letting go and accepting our fate and enjoying the ride.
It's been a month of struggle around here lately. Self imposed struggle you might say, thanks to our decision months ago to enter our first ever half-marathon. Somewhere in the last year we found a past-time that seemed innocent enough, a pair of running shoes, shorts and t-shirt and off you go, one foot in front of the other. Babies can do this. Babies DO do this, and we celebrate them when they do, and then they grow older and they run everywhere and are full of energy and we stand back in awe of how it must feel to be so full of energy and vigour and get-up-and-go... No one celebrates when a couple of 40 somethings decide its time they got off their rear ends and starting moving a bit more quickly, and cut back on the cream and the sugar and the sweets, and wake up when it's still dark and put on those running shoes and shorts and t-shirts and slip out to run a few miles and get back home before the rest of the world wakes up and sees them and points and wonders what the hell those two think they're up too?
We still don't consider ourselves 'runners' - that label we seem to save for those gazelle-like creatures who flow when they run, effortless movement through space, feet barely touching ground before lifting off once more; unlike our still slowish plodding and noisy, heavy, thumping on the uneven pavement. The gazelles run continuously; we break up our running with regular walk breaks, allowing our older, tired bodies a wonderful recovery and extending our runs in the process.
Not that we ever aspired to become gazelles; these leopards aren't changing the spots they were dealt, let's face it. But a year ago we walked / ran the 2.6 mile Super Run during the annual Father's Day Manitoba Marathon; by October we had fooled ourselves into running a race, an evening race no less, while on vacation in Florida. I tackled the Tower of Terror 13K while the rest of the family took on the 5K. We survived, and enjoyed it enough to bump up the challenge to the next level, hence this years half-marathon.
No longer content with the Super Run, or the 10K Walk, we took on the Half Marathon, 13.1 miles (20K). We entered a real race! And so we trained, quietly, slowly, methodically; building up our strength and stamina along the way, not fooling ourselves into thinking we had become anything more than better runners than we had been a year ago. And that was fine. This half marathon's goal was just to finish, no stress of a time goal needed.
And even that looked like it might be pushing it, when we both ended up with injuries and in physiotherapy two weeks before the event. One of us was left with the desire to run but without the ability (thanks to my ITBand flair up) and the other battled lack of energy and motivation to continue mixed in with hip / back issues that hampered the ability even once the motivation returned. But with fantastic assistance from our wonderful friend and therapist, we both healed sufficiently to continue with our plans and so we found ourselves on this past Sunday, lined up safely behind the gazelles and the cheetahs, back with the warthogs and elephants and tortoises, but lined up just the same, waiting for the crack of the starters pistol and Chariots of Fire and then we did it. Step by step, mile after mile, surrounded by runners from every walk of life, every size, shape, gender and possible running style or lack thereof, all progressing toward our own personal goals.
We slowed as the miles passed, Karen hit a wall near mile 7 so we walked more and talked more, and enjoyed the cool shady confines of the neighbourhood and the hospitality of the residents cheering everyone on from their lawn chairs, curbside Sunday morning, and once she regained her energy, we picked up the pace a bit again, mindful of our previous injuries, but determined to find that finish line.
A few more miles on we passed through our own neighbourhood, no thoughts of turning and heading home this morning, we continued on, and soon found ourselves within earshot of the PA announcer and the spectators and the wonderful volunteers waiting inside the University Stadium. We conserved our strength as we headed into the stadium grounds, and stepped onto the track together running in unison, side by side, urging each other through the cramping leg muscles and the aching joints, listened as our names were announced, and then with a determined effort, rounded the final bend and headed for the finish line. Cheered on by the volunteers lining the track at the finish zone, congratulated as we crossed, and rewarded with a medal for our efforts, we high fived and congratulated each other, and ourselves, and were absorbed into the crowd of recovering runners behind the stadium grandstand.
We accomplished what set out to do! And we felt great!
Shiny medals around our necks a reminder of that fact, and it was fitting we would do it the way we did, slowed by injuries, hungry for more but not quite able to get there, humbled in the process, and ultimately left to accept our circumstances and deal with them as best we could. Why would it work out any other way?
We got what we needed, and on this Sunday, it was also exactly what we wanted.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Buried treasure
It's been said that renovations are not for the faint of heart. There are the myriad of decisions that must be made, often well in advance of the actual project; the upheaval of regular routines; the debris; the stress; the cost; and of course the ever-present uncertainty of what lay ahead. We haven't even swung a hammer and we've been tested far beyond what we ever thought we'd have to endure at this point - with little to show for our time and energy beyond plans, calculations, and headaches.
So we gave our hearts some time to recover; a break from the decisions and questions and uncertainty, and we left well enough alone last week. Almost like hitting the pause button while watching a jugglers performance: all the balls are still in mid-air; arms outstretched ready to catch and release the next one; all focus frozen in time. Plus the weather is nice for this time of year, so we've been enjoying Spring come early - given what we endured last year in the pretext of being Summer - we deserve this bit of paradise while it lasts.
In between the lawn raking and window washing, we grabbed a shovel and some steel pry-bars and removed a cast concrete drain diverter sidewalk pad at the front corner of the garage. It was no small feat - having sat in it's present location for almost 50 years, wedged in place between gradebeam and sidewalk, and those nasty shrub roots and shoots that refuse to die...
But we did manage to wiggle it free and out of the way so we could dig down in that area to see what treasure lay buried beneath. We weren't searching for gold - though that would have been a welcome bonus - instead we were after a precious cargo of a different sort; one that might only appeal to builders: evidence of a concrete pile.
No, we don't need to see a doctor.
The concrete pile in question would be a very welcome sight, in that it would allow us to continue our plans of garage conversion, provided it was of sufficient size to carry the additional loads required by the new framing. So I dug down and after a few false finds which consisted of bits of excess concrete from the original construction and the odd root, I finally struck construction gold, and located a solid, non-movable surface inside the dark clay and soil hole I'd created.
With a bit more excavation - mostly by hand - I had uncovered the top of a circular concrete pour, about 18" in diameter, as best I could measure since a good quarter of the pile is hidden beneath the garage grade beam concrete, with a bit of exposed re-bar tying the two together, and with a bit more fine-tuned digging, the outside edges were revealed as well.
So our garage was built as we had hoped, with proper foundational support. I sent off details of our findings to the engineer for his consideration, installed some wooden stakes around the hole, tied them with bright pink survey flagging tape to keep the neighbor's kids from falling in, and called it a day.
We still don't know in which direction our next steps will be with this project, but at least we're slowly learning what we have to work with. Which is usually more than half the battle. In the meantime, we'll shine up our armour and hone our swords while we wait for divine inspiration.
So we gave our hearts some time to recover; a break from the decisions and questions and uncertainty, and we left well enough alone last week. Almost like hitting the pause button while watching a jugglers performance: all the balls are still in mid-air; arms outstretched ready to catch and release the next one; all focus frozen in time. Plus the weather is nice for this time of year, so we've been enjoying Spring come early - given what we endured last year in the pretext of being Summer - we deserve this bit of paradise while it lasts.
In between the lawn raking and window washing, we grabbed a shovel and some steel pry-bars and removed a cast concrete drain diverter sidewalk pad at the front corner of the garage. It was no small feat - having sat in it's present location for almost 50 years, wedged in place between gradebeam and sidewalk, and those nasty shrub roots and shoots that refuse to die...
But we did manage to wiggle it free and out of the way so we could dig down in that area to see what treasure lay buried beneath. We weren't searching for gold - though that would have been a welcome bonus - instead we were after a precious cargo of a different sort; one that might only appeal to builders: evidence of a concrete pile.
No, we don't need to see a doctor.
The concrete pile in question would be a very welcome sight, in that it would allow us to continue our plans of garage conversion, provided it was of sufficient size to carry the additional loads required by the new framing. So I dug down and after a few false finds which consisted of bits of excess concrete from the original construction and the odd root, I finally struck construction gold, and located a solid, non-movable surface inside the dark clay and soil hole I'd created.
With a bit more excavation - mostly by hand - I had uncovered the top of a circular concrete pour, about 18" in diameter, as best I could measure since a good quarter of the pile is hidden beneath the garage grade beam concrete, with a bit of exposed re-bar tying the two together, and with a bit more fine-tuned digging, the outside edges were revealed as well.
So our garage was built as we had hoped, with proper foundational support. I sent off details of our findings to the engineer for his consideration, installed some wooden stakes around the hole, tied them with bright pink survey flagging tape to keep the neighbor's kids from falling in, and called it a day.
We still don't know in which direction our next steps will be with this project, but at least we're slowly learning what we have to work with. Which is usually more than half the battle. In the meantime, we'll shine up our armour and hone our swords while we wait for divine inspiration.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
I have to go. Bad.
So this kitchen / house reno is taking on a life of its own.
First I verified a hunch that with the new stairs having to meet current code and the new framing required to open up the dining room and kitchen walls, said new stairs wouldn't fit where we needed them to go.
Great.
Luckily we had plan B in the wings, a plan which is actually a better layout and solves more of the issues that we listed as being reasons why we wanted to renovate in the first place. Certain items on that list got shelved with our original plan, because plan A allowed us to renovate within the existing footprint of the house as it stands now. No new foundations, or roof additions, just open up a few walls and move a few things (like stairs.) Plan B also allows us to remain within the existing footprint: we'd expand into the attached single car garage.
Yes, I'd lose the space that is currently home to my tools and small workshop and storage, but we'd gain a breakfast nook area, a main floor laundry space, and the existing living and dining rooms would either remain as is, or grow slightly larger.
It's a win -win - sorta win. The sorta being that my tools would need a new home, but that's a story for another day.
With Plan A now wounded, Plan B was summoned to the front line to fill in. B was given the once-over to review the details and get current with its nuances, and then it was off to battle. In this case, the battle was a call to the City to inquire about what's involved should I wish to convert my attached garage into living space.
Well. Serves me right for asking questions.
In this fair city, and quite likely in most across the land, the existing By-Laws that were drawn up years ago to serve as guides for development and community planning issues haven't exactly matured with the pace of society. In my particular case, the by-laws dealing with accessory parking on residential lots doesn't fit with the traditional image of a sub-urban development, with its rows of garages fronting the street, front doors and entrances hidden in the shadows, out of sight from the road, cars parked in front of those garages since the inhabitants have more "stuff" than they'll ever need, and it's all stored in that garage, instead of their 2 cars, boat, camper trailer and snowmobile.
Yes, I know - I've seen your garage. You park on the driveway too, I know.
And so do we. And that's the problem. All residential lots must be served by a driveway that leads to a parking space that does not encroach past the frontage of the dwelling on the lot. For those homes that have rear lane access - this isn't an issue.
For residents like us who live on a Bay with no rear access, our driveways lead from the street to an area on the lot that is reserved for parking, usually a garage or carport, or just a surface beside the house, large enough (8' x 20' typically) to park a car. And that's where we are supposed to park.
But if I were to convert my garage, I'd be losing that parking space that meets the by-law.
Yeah so? you ask?
Well, I would require permission from the city by way of a variance to park in front of my garage / house. Even though that's what we do right now. As do many of you, I know. I checked again this morning on my run.
The City Planner in charge of my particular area was a nice enough man, but he didn't know how'd he'd rule if I were to apply for a variance. he looked at the aerial view of my lot and noted that "you have room behind your house to expand the living area, without the need of converting the garage. I see a deck there." No shit Sherlock - and I intended that to be a deck and not park of the house! I got the impression I was fighting an uphill battle, as he wasn't a "fan of cars parking in view of front yards."
I had an few suggestions for him, but I kept quiet.
As part of my application, I'd be advised to get as many neighbors supporting my application to sign off that my parking on my driveway, slightly past the front of my house, but still wholly within my property, was not an issue for them, in which case my request for a variance would have more weight, but would still be up to Mr City Planner to weigh all the factors of my case before making a decision.
Neighborhood support shouldn't be an issue, as some of the people directly affected by my conversion also happen to park in front of their garages and not in them too... just like we have for 14 years...
Honestly? I feel like a schoolchild needing to raise my hand so I can go to the bathroom, when I really, really have to go.
I never did like authority, and I never once wet my pants.
First I verified a hunch that with the new stairs having to meet current code and the new framing required to open up the dining room and kitchen walls, said new stairs wouldn't fit where we needed them to go.
Great.
Luckily we had plan B in the wings, a plan which is actually a better layout and solves more of the issues that we listed as being reasons why we wanted to renovate in the first place. Certain items on that list got shelved with our original plan, because plan A allowed us to renovate within the existing footprint of the house as it stands now. No new foundations, or roof additions, just open up a few walls and move a few things (like stairs.) Plan B also allows us to remain within the existing footprint: we'd expand into the attached single car garage.
Yes, I'd lose the space that is currently home to my tools and small workshop and storage, but we'd gain a breakfast nook area, a main floor laundry space, and the existing living and dining rooms would either remain as is, or grow slightly larger.
It's a win -win - sorta win. The sorta being that my tools would need a new home, but that's a story for another day.
With Plan A now wounded, Plan B was summoned to the front line to fill in. B was given the once-over to review the details and get current with its nuances, and then it was off to battle. In this case, the battle was a call to the City to inquire about what's involved should I wish to convert my attached garage into living space.
Well. Serves me right for asking questions.
In this fair city, and quite likely in most across the land, the existing By-Laws that were drawn up years ago to serve as guides for development and community planning issues haven't exactly matured with the pace of society. In my particular case, the by-laws dealing with accessory parking on residential lots doesn't fit with the traditional image of a sub-urban development, with its rows of garages fronting the street, front doors and entrances hidden in the shadows, out of sight from the road, cars parked in front of those garages since the inhabitants have more "stuff" than they'll ever need, and it's all stored in that garage, instead of their 2 cars, boat, camper trailer and snowmobile.
Yes, I know - I've seen your garage. You park on the driveway too, I know.
And so do we. And that's the problem. All residential lots must be served by a driveway that leads to a parking space that does not encroach past the frontage of the dwelling on the lot. For those homes that have rear lane access - this isn't an issue.
For residents like us who live on a Bay with no rear access, our driveways lead from the street to an area on the lot that is reserved for parking, usually a garage or carport, or just a surface beside the house, large enough (8' x 20' typically) to park a car. And that's where we are supposed to park.
But if I were to convert my garage, I'd be losing that parking space that meets the by-law.
Yeah so? you ask?
Well, I would require permission from the city by way of a variance to park in front of my garage / house. Even though that's what we do right now. As do many of you, I know. I checked again this morning on my run.
The City Planner in charge of my particular area was a nice enough man, but he didn't know how'd he'd rule if I were to apply for a variance. he looked at the aerial view of my lot and noted that "you have room behind your house to expand the living area, without the need of converting the garage. I see a deck there." No shit Sherlock - and I intended that to be a deck and not park of the house! I got the impression I was fighting an uphill battle, as he wasn't a "fan of cars parking in view of front yards."
I had an few suggestions for him, but I kept quiet.
As part of my application, I'd be advised to get as many neighbors supporting my application to sign off that my parking on my driveway, slightly past the front of my house, but still wholly within my property, was not an issue for them, in which case my request for a variance would have more weight, but would still be up to Mr City Planner to weigh all the factors of my case before making a decision.
Neighborhood support shouldn't be an issue, as some of the people directly affected by my conversion also happen to park in front of their garages and not in them too... just like we have for 14 years...
Honestly? I feel like a schoolchild needing to raise my hand so I can go to the bathroom, when I really, really have to go.
I never did like authority, and I never once wet my pants.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Often in the silence you'll hear what what is needed
It's been a rather odd week.
Odd as in 'not normal' or different or unique. On many fronts.
With Spring Break coming to a close, coinciding with the Easter holidays my little family saw more of each other than we normally do, and while for some family groups this might spell chaos or danger, for us it was an enjoyable time to remember who we are individually and collectively. For while we each have our own roles that we play daily in our respective lives, we also share a bond that transcends those daily roles, and unifies as for better and for worse.
We marked Riley's height on his bedroom door casing on April Fool's day, apt I suppose, his head level and flat against the wooden trim, feet firmly planted on the floor, and I needed him to re-steady himself in position after the first marking because we did not believe where the line sat, so much higher than the previous record taken only six weeks earlier.
The second trial confirmed the first, and it shall be forever noted that he quietly grew an inch and a quarter in six weeks, momentarily measuring 5'-4" - at this rate his parents are in danger of being overtaken by summer's end. Eleven and a half years old, and hitting his first real growth spurt.
Saturday saw me complete a task that for some time has been rolling around my brain, an outcome that was inevitable, I knew, and one which Mother Nature has been slowly uncovering for me over the years.
I shaved my head.
Seriously.
For a number of reasons actually. I was continually headed (no pun intended) down that path a bit further each year, whether I liked it or not, and figured with spring now upon us it would be the right time to reveal what secrets lay hidden under the remaining areas of thick hair - did I have some hideous bump back there protruding unseen, or maybe a scar from childhood that would become much more evident without its protective covering? The answers to those questions are no, and no. The ol' bean looks quite well actually. And now's the time to get it used to the sun, before it turns my melon painful shades of red.
I've also found over the past year of running that my head gets very warm, very quickly, and traps massive amounts of heat up there, which quickly sends currents of perspiration cascading down my forehead stingingly into my eyes, and over the back and down my neck, testing the latest moisture-wicking properties of my running gear to the extreme.
Bald is much cooler. And aerodynamic too!
The mirror still hasn't quite figured out whose reflection it is sharing with me as I pass by, but I'm sure that will slowly become routine as well.
Maybe it was my newfound smoothness, or maybe the long weekend, I can't quite say which, but something had me reviewing a previous house renovation plan that we had decided wasn't the best solution to our problems, late into the morning hours Sunday night. I was drawn back to the ideas I had assembled on the screen, intrigued by the flow of spaces, and effortless solutions the drawing presented.
I had spent the three previous days in communication with the structural engineer as we finalized the lintel sizes and beam requirements and support framing necessary to reroute the loads from the current wall layout to the new design and was updating the drawings to place everything so we could apply for the necessary building permits.
As I checked and double checked the positions of floor joists, removing ceiling panels and measuring to a common reference point, making sure the drawings accurately reflected the existing conditions, I felt a change in the air. A curious palpable energy shift that left me uneasy but with much more calmness than I had been feeling all week.
It was with that quiet calmness that I revisited the earlier plan. And also with that same calmness that I confirmed the relocation of the basement stairs, the critical first step in the design and process of creating more space for the expanded kitchen, that I confirmed those stairs would not be able to be placed where we intended.
For with the relocation, the new stairway would have to be code compliant for rise and run dimensions (which our current 40 year old stairs are not) and the resulting changes would mean we'd be building a longer flight of stairs, and with the increased length, we'd run out of room at the base of the stairs for a landing that would also meet code. I couldn't just back the entire flight of stairs the required distance, due to the main support beam for the house and the necessary supporting framing for the new lintels and beams...
The new stairs were stuck between a rock and a hard place. And so was our plan.
The quiet calmness allowed me to linger in the midnight darkness of my office, accepting the circumstances of this dilemma, and understanding why I had been drawn to the other design earlier.
So much for lighting and tile samples. Now we're considering a plan to expand our living space by converting the presently under-used attached single car garage into the new kitchen and breakfast nook, complete with a row of windows overlooking the deck and backyard, and leaving those existing stairs right where they are. We'd be able to move the laundry upstairs, and expand the current dining room to formal dining room status; the living room would remain unchanged; and we'd close off the existing front porch area into a true front door entry with a door that actually faces the street...
Sure we'd lose the garage, but with the one year anniversary of my table saw accident approaching I'm very much aware that last year's new adventure began more lasting changes than previously thought. Unfortunately, with this latest discovery, our renovation plans may have to be rescheduled somewhat. Cuz if we're seriously looking at garage conversion / expansion, I'll need to clean that space out which means I need a new place for my tools, but then we'll also need to completely gut the interior of the garage space to allow for insulation and vapour barrier and floor framing...
I think it's time to listen for more silence...
Odd as in 'not normal' or different or unique. On many fronts.
With Spring Break coming to a close, coinciding with the Easter holidays my little family saw more of each other than we normally do, and while for some family groups this might spell chaos or danger, for us it was an enjoyable time to remember who we are individually and collectively. For while we each have our own roles that we play daily in our respective lives, we also share a bond that transcends those daily roles, and unifies as for better and for worse.
We marked Riley's height on his bedroom door casing on April Fool's day, apt I suppose, his head level and flat against the wooden trim, feet firmly planted on the floor, and I needed him to re-steady himself in position after the first marking because we did not believe where the line sat, so much higher than the previous record taken only six weeks earlier.
The second trial confirmed the first, and it shall be forever noted that he quietly grew an inch and a quarter in six weeks, momentarily measuring 5'-4" - at this rate his parents are in danger of being overtaken by summer's end. Eleven and a half years old, and hitting his first real growth spurt.
Saturday saw me complete a task that for some time has been rolling around my brain, an outcome that was inevitable, I knew, and one which Mother Nature has been slowly uncovering for me over the years.
I shaved my head.
Seriously.
For a number of reasons actually. I was continually headed (no pun intended) down that path a bit further each year, whether I liked it or not, and figured with spring now upon us it would be the right time to reveal what secrets lay hidden under the remaining areas of thick hair - did I have some hideous bump back there protruding unseen, or maybe a scar from childhood that would become much more evident without its protective covering? The answers to those questions are no, and no. The ol' bean looks quite well actually. And now's the time to get it used to the sun, before it turns my melon painful shades of red.
I've also found over the past year of running that my head gets very warm, very quickly, and traps massive amounts of heat up there, which quickly sends currents of perspiration cascading down my forehead stingingly into my eyes, and over the back and down my neck, testing the latest moisture-wicking properties of my running gear to the extreme.
Bald is much cooler. And aerodynamic too!
The mirror still hasn't quite figured out whose reflection it is sharing with me as I pass by, but I'm sure that will slowly become routine as well.
Maybe it was my newfound smoothness, or maybe the long weekend, I can't quite say which, but something had me reviewing a previous house renovation plan that we had decided wasn't the best solution to our problems, late into the morning hours Sunday night. I was drawn back to the ideas I had assembled on the screen, intrigued by the flow of spaces, and effortless solutions the drawing presented.
I had spent the three previous days in communication with the structural engineer as we finalized the lintel sizes and beam requirements and support framing necessary to reroute the loads from the current wall layout to the new design and was updating the drawings to place everything so we could apply for the necessary building permits.
As I checked and double checked the positions of floor joists, removing ceiling panels and measuring to a common reference point, making sure the drawings accurately reflected the existing conditions, I felt a change in the air. A curious palpable energy shift that left me uneasy but with much more calmness than I had been feeling all week.
It was with that quiet calmness that I revisited the earlier plan. And also with that same calmness that I confirmed the relocation of the basement stairs, the critical first step in the design and process of creating more space for the expanded kitchen, that I confirmed those stairs would not be able to be placed where we intended.
For with the relocation, the new stairway would have to be code compliant for rise and run dimensions (which our current 40 year old stairs are not) and the resulting changes would mean we'd be building a longer flight of stairs, and with the increased length, we'd run out of room at the base of the stairs for a landing that would also meet code. I couldn't just back the entire flight of stairs the required distance, due to the main support beam for the house and the necessary supporting framing for the new lintels and beams...
The new stairs were stuck between a rock and a hard place. And so was our plan.
The quiet calmness allowed me to linger in the midnight darkness of my office, accepting the circumstances of this dilemma, and understanding why I had been drawn to the other design earlier.
So much for lighting and tile samples. Now we're considering a plan to expand our living space by converting the presently under-used attached single car garage into the new kitchen and breakfast nook, complete with a row of windows overlooking the deck and backyard, and leaving those existing stairs right where they are. We'd be able to move the laundry upstairs, and expand the current dining room to formal dining room status; the living room would remain unchanged; and we'd close off the existing front porch area into a true front door entry with a door that actually faces the street...
Sure we'd lose the garage, but with the one year anniversary of my table saw accident approaching I'm very much aware that last year's new adventure began more lasting changes than previously thought. Unfortunately, with this latest discovery, our renovation plans may have to be rescheduled somewhat. Cuz if we're seriously looking at garage conversion / expansion, I'll need to clean that space out which means I need a new place for my tools, but then we'll also need to completely gut the interior of the garage space to allow for insulation and vapour barrier and floor framing...
I think it's time to listen for more silence...
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
The Devil's in the Details
It's Tuesday, it's Spring-like, and this young man's fancy is not turning to thoughts of love, it's turning to sinks and faucets, and granite and stone, and tile and sinks...
And don't forget lighting. That's on my list too. Recessed pot lights, and a few hanging pendants over the island; under cabinet fluorescent strips; and what about the front entryway? Did someone say Sun Tunnel? How about sky-lights?
It's enough to make your head hurt - even if you weren't migraine prone.
And let's not begin to discuss sinks, and why they are half the price of your new stainless steel, side-by-side refrigerator - but all they do is sit there and hold water - they don't freeze it into perfect cubes; or dispense it at the ideal temperature...
I don't understand. And heaven forbid you want additional insulating properties on those sinks! You'd think I'd asked for KFC's secret recipe of 11 herbs and spices!
We spent a few hours this past weekend, camera in hand, looking for alot of things. Sinks among them - and we know what size we want, and yes, we understand the difference between 18/10 and 18/8 and mirrored decks and polished ones - it would just be easier if someone threw one in the cart and said "Here you go, Enjoy!"
Too many choices sometimes lead to no choices being made.
We did find a faucet for the island sink, which by the way will be a round sink used mainly for prep. here's a picture of the sleek faucet:
We're not spending more than the sink on the faucet, and we're not impressed by expensive names with expensive price tags. Form, function and efficiency please, thank you very much.
We looked at many different pendant lights - and happily snapped away with the camera so we could pretend we didn't have to make a choice until later. Here's a few that caught our eyes:
I kinda like the retro feel of these
And these next two have similar shaped lights, which might mean we're leaning that way without realizing it.
We're looking for something traditional to go with the style of painted maple cabinets with a hand-rubbed glaze top coat. But we haven't decided on cabinet handles yet - so we'll let the lighting decision simmer while we attend to more pressing issues.
Like tile for the backsplash... more on that next time!
And don't forget lighting. That's on my list too. Recessed pot lights, and a few hanging pendants over the island; under cabinet fluorescent strips; and what about the front entryway? Did someone say Sun Tunnel? How about sky-lights?
It's enough to make your head hurt - even if you weren't migraine prone.
And let's not begin to discuss sinks, and why they are half the price of your new stainless steel, side-by-side refrigerator - but all they do is sit there and hold water - they don't freeze it into perfect cubes; or dispense it at the ideal temperature...
I don't understand. And heaven forbid you want additional insulating properties on those sinks! You'd think I'd asked for KFC's secret recipe of 11 herbs and spices!
We spent a few hours this past weekend, camera in hand, looking for alot of things. Sinks among them - and we know what size we want, and yes, we understand the difference between 18/10 and 18/8 and mirrored decks and polished ones - it would just be easier if someone threw one in the cart and said "Here you go, Enjoy!"
Too many choices sometimes lead to no choices being made.
We did find a faucet for the island sink, which by the way will be a round sink used mainly for prep. here's a picture of the sleek faucet:
We're not spending more than the sink on the faucet, and we're not impressed by expensive names with expensive price tags. Form, function and efficiency please, thank you very much.
We looked at many different pendant lights - and happily snapped away with the camera so we could pretend we didn't have to make a choice until later. Here's a few that caught our eyes:
I kinda like the retro feel of these
And these next two have similar shaped lights, which might mean we're leaning that way without realizing it.
We're looking for something traditional to go with the style of painted maple cabinets with a hand-rubbed glaze top coat. But we haven't decided on cabinet handles yet - so we'll let the lighting decision simmer while we attend to more pressing issues.
Like tile for the backsplash... more on that next time!
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Out with the old, in with the new
Except the rumble of a gas-powered generator outside on the deck, as the electricians worked to remove the old electrical breaker panel that has served this house since 1962, and it's newer companion, the sub panel I had installed a few years back when I brought the Delta cabinet table saw back home and set up a scaled down woodworking shop space in our small single car garage.
I brought in a company to handle this aspect of the renovation, a company I use on a regular basis for electrical work commercially in the course of my regular life as a contract project manager for a commercial general contractor. The guys are almost like family - I see them regularly, know their stories and their natures, and they know me - so it's not your typical residential job for them, it's different, it's easier in a lot of respects, but more difficult at the same time - for while they know I'll give them free reign to correct and fix what they see, and I won't hover and stand over their shoulders while they're working, they also know that I'm not a one-off customer they won't have contact with again. The stakes are higher to produce a quality product.
But that's why I asked for the lead electrician I did, because I know he'll clean everything up like it's his own house and make it right; even more than right when possible, and he knows I appreciate his knowledge and his attention to detail.
Sure I dropped in on them now and then and checked their progress as they went about tagging, cataloguing and tracing the existing lines to make sure each one was accounted for and able to be installed in the new service properly and orderly, but I gave them space to work required, and they knew if they needed clarification on any aspect of the job I'd be there to assist them, and when they needed some 2x4 cut offs to attach the new plywood backer board, all they had to do was ask.
I think its important to give people space to perform their work, and not micromanage what doesn't need your input. It's a lot like raising children, sure they need boundaries and discipline and the knowledge that actions have consequences, but you have to let them grow and learn on their own for best results.
With this first tangible step in the renovation process underway, it struck my how much our lives are going to change this summer, and while I'm comfortable with the amount of upheaval that's headed our way, I'm not sure Karen or Riley is aware of what's barreling down the tracks right at them. But that's how we roll, I'll try and keep them comfortably unaware of the multitude of things going on behind the scenes as we approach that day when we can finally swing a hammer and start dismantling those past chapters of our lives tied into those doomed walls; like a good parent, protecting my crew from unnecessary stress and uncertainty, while at the same time, preparing them for the positive things coming their way.
Out with the old, in with the new.
Here's what was powering the house before:
(click to see full images)
And what we've got moving forward:
Now we have lots of room to grow; and so does our electrical service.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
A look back
So here's where we started back in 1995.
Lovely 1960's bungalow, 1400ish square feet main floor, 3 bedrooms, 2 full baths, finished basement, attached (small single) garage.It's changed colours a few times.
The trees have been removed, and or replanted - depends where you're looking.
Here's a picture last fall:
Yeah, I know, it looks a little barren without the trees. I think so too, glad you agree!Here's what we found inside back then:
The lovely 60's kitchen.Check out that toaster oven over the Harvest Gold range! "Here's George Jetson..."
A view down the main floor hall. Yep, that's green and then blue carpet... wowsie!
The built-in mahogany china cabinet - in the dining room which is across the hall from the kitchen. (see past said china cabinet into kitchen doorway above)
The Gorgeous pink upstairs bathroom. Note the Hospital green painted insides on the vanity cabinet...
And not to be outdone, the blue basement bathroom... (and we BOUGHT this place?)
Yes, yes we did. I'll save you the shock of seeing the basement today, you can only handle so much. The previous owners left this house in the 60's with the decorating and furnishings too - the half-moon coffee table and purple sofa greeted us when we toured the open house.
Yes we got the place for a steal.
We saw the bones of the house and its potential. It was well built, all Douglas Fir framing, and straight and square, so we knew we could start over and have the house grow with us as we went. So we tackled the obvious issues; carpet, paint, added some built-ins and then lived in the house for a few years and figured out where we'd go from there.
Sure, well meaning family members told us to paint the kitchen cabinets for the time being, but we knew better, we knew we'd be tackling that room soon. Soon, as in this lifetime, it turns out, and not 'soon' as in the next year or so, but our intentions were good. We bought new appliances for the kitchen and adjusted our expectations once Riley arrived. But we kept fine tuning things, like paint colours (I think we're on the 4th or 5th colour in the master bedroom and at least that in the living room, dining room and main hall) and home office vs master bed room vs nursery locations - for awhile there each of the three main floor bedrooms got a crack at being one or the other.
Finally we stuck with the current arrangement, Riley's room at the end of the hall (blue carpet above) Master BR left hand side of end of hall beside that, with the 3rd BR becoming the office, across the hall from the former pink bathroom. We gutted that bathroom and redid it about 5 years ago. Good bye pink, hello earthy greys and greens and maple cabinetry and in-floor heated tile. I'll try and find a picture for you. But don't ask about the lack of doors on the medicine cabinets. They didn't get built. And then after a few years of living with the sans door concept, we tore out that set and recessed new units into the wall and ordered mirrors custom cut to fit into the solid maple doors I was making.
Anyone remember what happened with that project last year? High 4 1/2 if you do!
Next time, more pictures of the current main floor, and maybe a quick look at the basement before and after.
But first, lets hold hands and sing songs. I've got the electrician in tomorrow to replace the existing electrical service panel and sub panel in the basement, so we'll have a fresh new start for the new wiring that's coming in the expanded kitchen space. That's the first real step in this project.
It looks like we're serious about this!
Monday, March 22, 2010
Home Sweet Home...for now.
Ahh, spring time in Paris! The cafes; the blossoms; the architecture...
No wait. Check that.
The calendar says Spring, but there's not much springing up and growing anew just yet, and this isn't Paris, it's Winnipeg, which once Spring starts happening is very wonderful and fresh as it removes its winter trappings and begins to green up and bloom, but it's not Paris.
And this ain't a love song.
This is the beginning of a story, a journey to find something new, of recreation and rebirth. It's been a number of years in the making (don't ask, it's been awhile, trust me) and its finally here; we're renovating the house.
Sure, we've done minor rehabs to the interior in the past, including the main floor bathroom (complete gut) and the basement including full bath down there too, and numerous coats of paint and new trim and roof, and seemingly endless variations of yardwork including 2 decks, 5 or 6 raised flower beds, the shed, and the fence. But this year we're tackling the kitchen.
And if you know us, you also know that its not going to be just a simple kitchen redo, with new cabinets and flooring and lights etc.
No, I've been blessed with a broken switch that allows things to grow, to blossom into much larger, more grander incarnations of their original plans. Like vacations, but that's another story...
It all started with an Island. Actually that's not true, it all started moments after we moved into this house, and made a list of the things we wanted to change about it, to make it our own. Like removing the green carpet on the main floor, and the pink and white shag carpet in the master bedroom, or the blue carpet in the back bedroom. Under all of which we found oak hardwoods. Or the pink bathroom fixtures upstairs, or the raised velvet on the black and red wallpaper in the rec-room that went so well with the dark wood panelling, and the black vinyl-upholstered front on the wet bar, which matched with the vinyl coverings on the support columns...
With all those areas fighting for priority, the kitchen got pushed down the list - though we knew we wanted to change it. And so we planned it out, while we worked on the other areas. And as life is known to do, plans change. Riley was born, certain areas of the renovations took greater immediacy than others, then vacations grew... and grew again, and again...well, you get the idea.
The time has come, the time is now.
And so, this year we've decided and embarked on the plan. Not the same plan for the kitchen that we first started with, mind you, or the second or third... And truthfully, if we had built any of those we'd be redoing the kitchen again, for those first plans wouldn't have solved the main issue we had with this house: that the main traffic flow to the basement went right through the too small kitchen.
Next time: some pictures of the old, and a look at how we got here.
No wait. Check that.
The calendar says Spring, but there's not much springing up and growing anew just yet, and this isn't Paris, it's Winnipeg, which once Spring starts happening is very wonderful and fresh as it removes its winter trappings and begins to green up and bloom, but it's not Paris.
And this ain't a love song.
This is the beginning of a story, a journey to find something new, of recreation and rebirth. It's been a number of years in the making (don't ask, it's been awhile, trust me) and its finally here; we're renovating the house.
Sure, we've done minor rehabs to the interior in the past, including the main floor bathroom (complete gut) and the basement including full bath down there too, and numerous coats of paint and new trim and roof, and seemingly endless variations of yardwork including 2 decks, 5 or 6 raised flower beds, the shed, and the fence. But this year we're tackling the kitchen.
And if you know us, you also know that its not going to be just a simple kitchen redo, with new cabinets and flooring and lights etc.
No, I've been blessed with a broken switch that allows things to grow, to blossom into much larger, more grander incarnations of their original plans. Like vacations, but that's another story...
It all started with an Island. Actually that's not true, it all started moments after we moved into this house, and made a list of the things we wanted to change about it, to make it our own. Like removing the green carpet on the main floor, and the pink and white shag carpet in the master bedroom, or the blue carpet in the back bedroom. Under all of which we found oak hardwoods. Or the pink bathroom fixtures upstairs, or the raised velvet on the black and red wallpaper in the rec-room that went so well with the dark wood panelling, and the black vinyl-upholstered front on the wet bar, which matched with the vinyl coverings on the support columns...
With all those areas fighting for priority, the kitchen got pushed down the list - though we knew we wanted to change it. And so we planned it out, while we worked on the other areas. And as life is known to do, plans change. Riley was born, certain areas of the renovations took greater immediacy than others, then vacations grew... and grew again, and again...well, you get the idea.
The time has come, the time is now.
And so, this year we've decided and embarked on the plan. Not the same plan for the kitchen that we first started with, mind you, or the second or third... And truthfully, if we had built any of those we'd be redoing the kitchen again, for those first plans wouldn't have solved the main issue we had with this house: that the main traffic flow to the basement went right through the too small kitchen.
Next time: some pictures of the old, and a look at how we got here.
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