Being Done is SO 2023

So, late last summer, we began building The Beast out — the affectionate name we’ve given for the pantry cabinets at the back of our kitchen.

When all was said and done, it seemed like a no-brainer to paint the cabinets white to match the rest of the kitchen cabinetry and keep things in the low-contrast zone we find ourselves most comfortable. Muddy grey, white, and an occasional pop of black is our jam, baby.

Ikea, for some unknown bizarre reason, does not make matching cabinetry paint. If you get a nick on your cabinet, or if you are trying to match filler pieces to your cabinet, good luck with that. If you have cabinets with color other than white, you may be be able to do a solid color match at your paint store. But, white is a notoriously difficult color to match, even if you bring the whole drawer front into the store.

Never fear, though, we are fortunate to have a consultant on call for just these kinds of dilemmas. His name is Dr. Google and from what we could gather from our research, we are the one billionth person to have this issue. The consensus on the interwebs was to use Behr Premium White in Matte for the closest match possible.

Welp, not the first time Dr. Google has led us astray [remembering that rash on my left ankle which ended up not being early onset malaria, but rather a simple mosquito bite]. To be fair, the color does match fairly well, but the sheen and the finish is all wrong. No one is going to mistake The Beast for something that was factory finished, lemme tell you.

Here she is, all trimmed out and painted

While it doesn’t look too shabby, if we do say so ourselves, something just wasn’t quite right. We couldn’t put our finger on it and decided, since this was the last big thing we had to check off our list for the kitchen reno to be done and dusted, we would live with it for a hot second and see if it grew on us.

So, here we are, many months later, and I think we have figured out the disconnect. The piece is chalky (hello paint), and too white. I mean, the thing could bring home ships in the dark of night. It also gives off hospital clinic vibes – not exactly the aesthetic we were shooting for.

To be honest, we were so tired after a year of reno that we probably would have lived with it forever. But, then, a bad thing happened that ended up being just the catalyst we needed to get back on the reno horse and give it another go. The crown moulding that we had affixed to the top of the unit for that quintessential built-in look started separating from the ceiling!

The unsightly black line where the crown separated from the ceiling was our first clue that something was wrong

We had used our go-to stretchy caulk that has always worked wonders for us — and seemingly lasts for years without cracking or splitting. We soon realized where things went south on this piece, though — if you scroll back to the original pictures above, you will see the first easter egg (clue) to what likely caused this blessing-in-disguise tragedy.

When the piece was originally finished, painted and caulked, we got to work loading it up with all the fun stuff it was meant to house. In the interior cabinets were small appliances and pantry items like canned and jarred goods. In the upper open shelving were a ton (remember that word, your second easter egg of this debacle) of books in my cookbook collection.

And that led us to the culprit.

We loaded this thing up after we caulked, and naturally — because gravity — the weight pulled the entire unit down, hence the separation between crown and ceiling.

Because we knew we wanted to change the color on the unit anyway, we used the opportunity to add some additional trim to the crown to hide the separation, and then set about to painting the whole shebang, once again. Big sigh.

What we didn’t do was caulk the piece of crown trim to the ceiling prior to finishing. Once we get the thing painted out (I’m going to hyperventilate if I keep these big sighs up), we will load all the books and appliance back in and THEN caulk the ceiling.

We struggled to choose a color that would blend with the kitchen and not be too much of a distraction. We originally set our sight on black, but then thought it might scream, “Look at me!” from the back wall of our kitchen. Because our kitchen walls (along with the whole house and the walls of the massive island) are painted Benjamin Moore’s Edgecomb Grey (a soothing, beigey/grey — the kids call it ‘greige’ these days), Ben (Moore, that is) recommended a number of complementary colors that go with Edgecomb Grey, including a navy blue and a deep putty grey. Navy blue, especially on islands, has been done to death — similar to its ship-lap cousin in popularity, it was a little too on-trend, and besides, all the TikTokers tell us the navy island era has passed.

So, we went with…drumroll, please! Benjamin Moore’s Chelsea Grey! It is exclamation-point-palooza over here with that decision behind us. Seriously, you don’t really want to know how long it took us to choose the color. When we saw it weirdly, and identically, matched the veining in our quartz countertops, we were flipping sold.

Here she is, with the first coat on. So far so good, but keep in mind, I said the same thing when we got the first coat of white on her, now many moons ago. We also changed sheens from a Matte to an Eggshell, so we’ll see if we can contain our excitement (and use of exclamation points) when we see that gloss-up happening on the second coat.

We should be done soon — the only motivation I have is that our kitchen once again looks like a construction zone. We could open a small paint supply store with all the bins we have of painting supplies. “Oh, look, they’re giving away free paint stirrers!

[Sigh…]

With just 30 days left, give or take, before we hit the year** mark on our kitchen renovation project, we are scrambling to finish the last item on our checklist.

We lovingly call this unit the beast, and the nickname has proven true to form with all of the steps (and time) involved in getting this thing built. These utility cabinets were in the original renderings for the kitchen, but we always knew we would wait until everything else was completed to tackle this baby.

The rendering above is of the far end of our kitchen, which included the utility cabinets, albeit in a different configuration than we ultimately landed on.

Rather than go with the same cabinetry we chose for the rest of our kitchen, we wanted to hold off purchasing these utility cabinets until we saw what kind of space we would have left after the massive island was set in place.

We weren’t sure whether we could do a full 24-in depth on the utility cabinet, a 16-in depth, or even less. What we did know was that we wanted plenty of walkway space behind the stools that faced the rest of the kitchen. Nothing makes a room look smaller than inadequate space to walk! And, nobody loves being stuck at the far end of a counter, not being able to squeeze by others who are sitting there.

So, we wanted to leave a full 3 to 4 feet of walkway space and just couldn’t get picture what that would feel like until the kitchen was relatively finished.

We are so glad we waited because the configuration changed, as did the depth of the cabinets, once we got a glimpse of what we had to work with in terms of space. In order to accommodate the spacious walkway behind the stools, we ended up with a 15-in utility cabinet depth, something we would never have considered had we ordered cabinets all at once.

We found the idea/hack from a bunch of different DIY bloggers to use several different IKEA pieces to form built-in cabinetry using solid wood IKEA Havsta cabinets topped with less expensive Billys.

The beast sits at the far back of our kitchen and because we considered it bonus space,  it fell way down on our to-do list. Even though we didn’t think we needed the extra cabinet space, we are not surprised we have found a way to fill them up!

Once we set the cabinets in place — we used two Havsta cabinets and four Billys — we knew we would have to complete the baseboards first. In order for these to look as “built in” as possible, we removed the baseboards behind the cabinet so they could fit snug against the wall.

“Snug” would be actually be a luxury as we have very crooked walls, but we accommodated their quirkiness as much as possible, knowing caulk will solve the rest.

Next, we turned the Billy cabinets upside down so their bases would form a nice backing to attach some crown molding, and then bolted everything together from the inside. (Scroll up a few photos to see the upside down Billys before they got crowned.)

The next step was adding trim which really helps drive home the built-in look. We used 2-in wide unfinished pieces of oak which we found online.

Then, it was on to using wood filler to fill in all the spaces where wood met wood, spackling all of the shelf holes which took weeks, if we are being honest. Not the favorite task of the project, but one that also will help visually declutter the look of the unit.

We also spackled the deep crevices which were created when we smushed the two base cabinets together. Again, this is to make a seamless built-in look. In the photo below, you can see that we filled it partially. Let it dry for a day or so, sanded, and then came back and filled it again with spackle. We repeated that process until the seam was…seamless 🙂 I forgot to snap a photo of that, but the proof will be in the pudding when the finished cabinet is revealed. Fingers crossed.

Because these crevices were so deep, we would apply a coat, let it cure for a day or two, sand, and repeat. For days…

We finally finished sanding everything which is also an exercise in patience-building (one we would like never to repeat!) We are now in the final stages of caulking everything — where the backer board of the Billys meet the side walls, where the Billys meet the Havstas, where the trim meets the crown, and where the base molding meets the Havstas.

As soon as the caulk dries, we will apply an initial coat of shellac primer that must dry and cure for at least two to three days, before applying a second coat. The hardwood cabinets likely would not need that much attention, especially since we ultimately will be painting them white, but Ikea cabinets not made of hardwood — the Billys are some particle board mish-mash — must have a good shellac primer. This will keep the cabinets from easily scuffing and scratching with everyday use.

Once the shellac is fully cured, a step that will take at least the next four to five days, the whole thing will get two coats of Behr Premium White Matte — Scuff Defense (which the internet tells us is the closest match to the color cabinets we have in the rest of the kitchen). Note to Ikea: Here’s an idea for a money making endeavor. Sell paint to match your products!

Once the beast is done and dusted, we can confidently say we are finished. (Unless you count the punch list — boy, do we have a punch list…!) But, we think, if luck is on our side, we may have some before and after pictures to share by the end of the summer. I know you’ve heard it before, but this time we think it’s gonna happen 😊

**The project ‘year’ anniversary changes depending on our mood! It is true that our house became a storage locker for cabinets that were delivered last July. But we did not start pulling up the floors until September, so we are still on our game.

We’re back!

It is true, we took a bit of a break. Life got in the way in the form of a surgery, job turmoil (looking at you, you fickle tech industry), a terrible flu, and a couple of weeks back in Ireland to restore, renew, and re-energize.

I’m not sure about the energized part, but with an 80%-done kitchen, over a year of hard labor in the books, and a wall still full of construction bits and bobs, we know it’s time to get on the stick and wrap this baby up.

Despite the overall break, we have been working, albeit slowly and hodgepodgey (yes, I would like credit for coining that word.)

A little dab here, a little dab there, and tiny bits of things are getting done. We’ll make one big push beginning in May, and if our timeline is right, and no more hurdles rise up, we should be posting some before and after pictures before the summer months arrive.

We thought board and batten was going to be a quick and easy (and entirely palatable) answer to our, “what to do with the outside wall of an 11 ft by nearly 9 ft island?” question. The palatable part was a no-brainer. After all, we have done this before and we’ve liked board and batten. And, better yet, as experienced board and batteners (!), we figured a good weekend would finish the job.

(Insert a big fat HA! to that grand plan.)

You’ll remember, here’s where we started:

Nothing went right on this task. The pony wall was crooked, there were so many waves and divots and seams that the correcting part can be fully blamed for our fleeing the country for a couple weeks. If we never have to do that again, it will be too soon. The correcting part, not the fleeing the country part…

But we did press on, and I believe in the last update, progress was made with laying the battens.

But then, as these projects so often do, we got stumped on a small thing. How to finish out the ends so that this doesn’t look like an amateur job. If I told you it took us weeks of contemplation and nailing one piece after another of finished molding before ripping it off and starting anew, you would think we were crazy. So, I won’t tell you that’s what we did…

We still need to add scribe after the painting is finished, but we settled on a simple and clean finish for the end pieces. We just couldn’t stomach the options any longer, figuring getting something done is better than getting nothing done and we can always rip it out down the road if we don’t like it.

But, the task that neither one of us enjoys is the wood filling and caulking. A necessary part for a clean, professional look, and given that we have a lot of bumps and divots, all the help we can get to smooth things out, is necessary.

So for the past two weeks, we have been nail-setting popped nails, wood-filling nail holes, caulking all of the seams (and there are many), and finally, sanding. Did I mention we sanded? We sanded and sanded and sanded.

Caulking those seams really makes a difference and now we are proceeding to the ridiculous looking, but equally necessary, task of closing our eyes and feeling up our island. The island may enjoy the process, but us? Not so much. Still, it helps us pinpoint exactly what still needs to be…sanded.

Next task is to prime the whole kit and caboodle. Twice, actually. That’s the easy part — although, every time I say, “that’s the easy part” that little voice inside says, “hold my beer…”

Regrets, We’ve Had a Few…

With apologies to Frank, we thought the lyrics to “My Way” sum up perfectly the frustrating situation in which we currently find ourselves in this kitchen renovation. Forgive the alteration…

Regrets, we’ve had a few (and some mistakes, too)
But then again, too few to mention (oh, I think this multi-worded blog post would beg to differ)
We did what we had to do (or paid someone else — looking at you ceiling paint)
And saw it through without exemption

We planned each charted course (sometimes)
Each careful step along the byway
And more, much more than this
We did it (sort of) our way

Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew
When we bit off more than we could chew (hello floor removal)
But through it all, when there was doubt
We ate it up and spit it out (or wept ourselves silly)
We faced it all and we stood tall (and also curled in a ball)
And did it our way

In case this sounds like the big reveal of our brand spanking new kitchen, keep your powder dry because we have miles to go before we put this thing to bed.

We are in a brain freeze/holding pattern/pulling-hair-out/counter-head-bang conundrum with these d-a-m-n floating shelves. More on that later — maybe the hivemind out there can come up with some suggestions for how we might solve this debacle because we are fearful all that pretty tile may be a thing of the past if we do not figure this out.

For now, though, it might be fun (ha!) to revisit some of the regrets we have — we always have an “I wish we woulda done this” list and this project is no exception.

  1. When we had the tile installed, there were gaps between the tile and the wall on the visible side of the Schluter edge. We thought the tile guy would have taken care of it, but the tile guy said that was the paint guy’s job. Little did he know, we were the paint guy! So, while we wait for our brain cells to kick into high shelf-installing gear, I’m in caulking mode. Below the countertop will go some scribe for those big gaps, but the rest has to be caulked. So much caulking.

2) The range hood. We wished we would have hung our fancy-schmancy range hood ourselves. Granted, it is an unusual piece of equipment that came all the way from Italy (those wacky Italians) and the reason we love it is because it looks like an art installation. We needed a range hood — venting to the outside presented a sturdy challenge, permits, and an HOA approval.

A ceiling vent was our first choice, but the rafters and support beams in the ceiling meant framing it in just the right place would be difficult and chancy. When we saw this Futuro Futuro (it’s so nice, they named it twice!) we fell in love with the unique look and were sold when we learned the filter needed changed once every five year (five years!) and pendant lighting, to boot.

Anyway, upon installation the contractor got lost in all the cables and cords that make up the art installation part of the thing, criss-crossing cables, marring our brand-new ceiling and hanging the damn thing an inch off center. We will be fixing it ourselves, but we ain’t happy about it.

3) The pantry wall. We were on site every single day. If you have been through a renovation with a contractor, you know the questions come at you fast and furious. And what you get when you think things are obvious and need no explanation (the fridge center seam should align with the upper cabinet seam!) is this:

Yes, we will be taking out the pantry wall cabinets for repositioning and redoing the trim, but we aren’t happy about that, either.

Could we go back to the contractor for a redo? Yes, but it is complicated by the fact that the same people will be doing the re-work and they thought this looked just fine.

Let me say, we have worked with this contractor before, several times, and would do so again, in a heartbeat. They got way more right than wrong. The important bits are done correctly and to code (plumbing and electrical). It is just the aesthetics that graced the wrong side of the goal-posts and we knew better than to leave that part up to someone else.

4) The floor. This one is all on us. We had to go back 28 years to get the original model name/number for our current flooring. Would we have liked to have changed the oak floors to something else? Yes, but with an open-concept main floor and the same hardwoods throughout all three levels, that was a big budget NOPE. We needed to replace the hardwoods we removed from the dining room with the same make/model in the new kitchen since we would be marrying the two floors together.

Thus began the detective dance. We finally found Bruce Oak hardwoods in Butterscotch (weirdly not ‘Gunstock’ as most of the other homes in our neighborhood used.)

We waited a long time for the wood to arrive and when it did, we brought the boxes into the house to acclimate. We doublechecked the model number and color code on each and every box.

You know what we didn’t do? We didn’t open any of the boxes ahead of time to look at a dang piece of wood. In fact, it never even occurred to us that the color would be so dramatically different even though it is the same product.

On that fateful day, with flooring guys in their knee pads looking to us to make a spur-of-the-moment call on what to do, we asked them to lay as much of the brand new flooring under the island as possible (sigh.)

Insult to injury came when they said they could not “lace” the two floors together. I think it coulda been done and I regret not nudging a little more forcefully. I can only say we were still in shock at seeing the two different colors side by side to pay much attention to the HORI-FLIPPING-ZONTAL line that is now in the galley part of our kitchen.

It is not impossible to fix, but I’ve ordered a swanky washable runner that will look lovely in the meantime. That will have to do, peanut, that will have to do.

None of the above regrets are irreversible, but all will take a little sweat equity to fix.

The shelves are a whole different story and deserve their own feature post titled BIG FAT FLIPPING FLOATING SHELF HEADACHE.

The short version — we installed the posts onto which the shelves will slide before the tile was installed. That was smart — everyone said so, from the post-seller guy (?!), to the gazillions of pros we peppered with questions.

The posts that went in were as level as the day is long. The tilers tiled around them and we were to do the next part — drilling the holes in the back of our 2.5″ shelves — on our own. It was supposed to be time-consuming, but easy, especially since we purchased a drilling jig from the same post-making company. We (smartly) used a scrap piece of wood first to practice.

The holes, even with the jig, are not straight enough to slide onto the posts. Or maybe the posts aren’t straight enough to slide into the holes. Either way, nothing is sliding anywhere.

We thought hard, and came up with what we thought was an ingenious fix — making the holes a little bit larger to accommodate any crookedness from the posts. Hard NOPE.

And worse, the larger drill bit wasn’t long enough to go 8″ into our 11″ shelves. So, we ordered an extender for the drill bit. But the extender didn’t fit our drill.

Now we are in the process of ordering our third drill bit and our fears are growing that we may have to damage our brand new tile to reposition the posts or just scrap the ‘hole’ kit and kaboodle, and start fresh.

My head hurts.