(You know when you've put a lot of work into a project and just really, really want it to be done, but then make a stupid mistake and realize that you'll forever hate the end product if you give into temptation and just let that mistake slide? I was at that point last night, and I sucked it up, got a couple extra supplies, and worked to right my wrongs. I know I'll be happier when it's all done, but now my project won't be done until the weekend, if not later.)
I don't really know why I'm keeping so silent on what this project is. But I am, and revealing its nature now would be terribly anti-climactic. Let's just say that my family is being very forgiving with me, as they are inconvenienced in a big way by this project. Sure, I can do my work in the basement, hauling my project with me, but that means we are less something very important here on the main level.
Hmm.
Okay, enough strange and pointless clues. Let's move along to a bigger project on the horizon.
A project that fills me with equal mixtures thrill and fear.
A project that is necessary, yet very daunting and large.
That project would be... our bathroom.
We have 1.5 baths in our 1948 Cape Cod, so, needless to say, the main bathroom on the first floor is a pretty important spot. It's in desperate need of renovation, and when I say renovation, I don't just mean a spot of paint and some new lighting is going to do it.
Oooohhh, no. Ooooohhh, I wish.
Everything in this bathroom is original to the house--everything--and it's all falling to pieces and mildewing and rotting and just generally making me fear for our general health. It's a pretty small bath, and we have no way of expanding it since it's stuck in between a staircase and our master bedroom (and we have no intention of knocking out either of those, thankyouverymuch), so we need to work hard to make every ounce of space work and shine and sparkle. Right now every ounce of space is sad and dull and wet, and I'm tired of it. Just tired of it.
The Professor has worked his tail off this semester with an above-and-beyond class at a community college in town, and we've agreed to set aside some of that money to tackle this bathroom. We are planning lots of work. (I need to take a moment here to issue a BIG qualifier: I am planning and buying and decorating, and The Professor and my dear father are the ones who are going to do the actual work. I'm having all the fun, and they are getting grumpy at all the work I am creating for them. I am completely at peace with that.) Here, instead of just listing all the work, I will show you pictures of our current bathroom situation and describe how we are going to change what you see.
WARNING: These pictures are not for the faint at heart.
Image 1: View from the doorway
Yes, that is an actual window, with wood trim and miniblinds and everything!, in the shower stall. More on that trim later. The tile in the shower, while well laid, is buckling after 60 years of water and steam, and the grout is positively scary. (There's mildew. Yurck.) Everything that isn't tiled in this house is plaster, which means the walls that get hit with steam are crumbling. The tub (and toilet) will stay--it's steel and might be immobile and really, it's in good shape. It just needs some paint. I have no issues with the tub except for the fact that dear Mrs. Dorothy never cleaned it. Like, ever.
Image 2: Windowsill in shower
Oh, yeah. I love the full wood trim and sill in a shower. The non-obscured glass, the barely-opening (seriously, it takes massive strength) window, the rotting, peeling wood with noticeable mildew. This definitely makes me want to invite house guests to shower here.
(Today The Professor was supposed to be ordering a replacement window so that he and my dad can start by doing a full-frame replacement with a nice, double-hung, obscured-glass window. Yay!)
Image 3: Crackling plaster in shower
So our house was built in the 40s, and it's all plaster. That makes things a little delicate. We've purchased tile for the shower already (I found remnant tile for $.99 a square foot!!), and we plan on tiling up to the ceiling and even the ceiling of the stall itself, less wherever we decide we can put an exhaust fan, if we do in fact end up putting in an exhaust fan. But when we tear off this tile and plaster, we realize we might find some funky stuff underneath, thus making a tear-down to the studs and subsequent build-up necessary. Your prayers would, of course, be appreciated.
Image 4: The Vanity of Doom
Oh. My. Word. Doesn't this sink just take your breath away? It is, in every way, Fugly. (Fugly-ass, I would say, but I'm supposed to be ladylike on the blawg.) Not only is it ugly, but it was either installed not-levelly or it's sinking. Look at the far-right side of the sink. See how the sink top is slowly moving away from the wood, so that you can see the brown edge of the wood on the right? That means our sink tilts slightly to the right and water from the faucet drains directly into the cavity of the vanity and onto the floor underneath. The floor of our vanity is rotting! No telling what the actual floor looks like underneath! Hurrah!
Also, apparently at the time of this picture, I was having a contest to see just how much stuff I could crowd on this vanity.
We have already purchased a lovely white, cast iron pedestal sink that will sit proudly in this vanity's place someday soon. We have to go with a pedestal because there is a very large heating vent set into the wall to the right of the sink; if you look, you can see that the vanity doesn't exactly hit the wall--there is about a 6-inch gap to allow the air to flow.
(Pedestal sinks aren't a new thing, right? I mean, with that vent there, why was a vanity ever used in the first place?)
Image 5: Medicine cabinet
(and its ensuing poor lighting)
Also, as you can see from this and previous images, whoever first did this bathroom loved tile. Like, THEY LOVED TILE A LOT. It had to be ALL OVER. THE ENTIRE ROOM.
The medicine cabinet and the tile and the Toothbrush Holder of Eternity (because, you see, it and its friends, Eternal Towel Bar #1, Eternal Towel Bar #2, and Eternal Shower Soap Dish, are all permanently affixed to the tile) will all be gone. I plan on buying a fresh, white medicine cabinet (because we do need the storage) and then painting the re-plastered walls a lovely milk chocolate. We also have a wonderfully retro white cabinet for above the toilet that we recently found at an antique mall.
For $40.
Hate me!
Image 6: Poorly stuck-on stick-on linoleum
Yes, that's some sort of florally pink pattern. I don't know. Just...don't ask, please. It's gotta go. There is likely asbestos or lead or something else in the floor. We can't wait! I'm going to be a slave driver and make my hubs and my dad replace it with this beautiful white-and-black old school ceramic tile that fills my heart and my soul with joy.
And if Christine is happy, then so is everyone else.
Image 7 (final image): The Silver Switch Plate of Destiny
And... I'm done.
I, for one, can't wait! Can you? Please commence sharing of your demolition and remodeling horror stories now. We are remodeling virgins. We need a few good scares to bring us to reality.
8 comments:
So excited to see progress on this! Probably not as eager as you are, but pretty stoked!
I'm not sure if you'll be able to get to this from the link. If not you will be able to find our bathroom remodel in Gina Rupert's picture albums. It is not finished, but you can see some of the process.
http://www.facebook.com/note.php?saved&&suggest¬e_id=191099586073#/album.php?aid=43378&id=619666862
Good luck! Have fun with it. :)
C - we are the masters at remodeling bathrooms! We've redone each bathroom at least once in every home we've lived in. I feel your pain.
Don't know if you considered it - but we chose a glass block window for out bathroom in the home we currently reside in. It offers privacy, but allows sufficient light - fabulous! (Why, oh why do people put windows in the tub walls? Never understood that!)
Also, I think you will like your pedestal sink. We installed one after ripping out the whole vanity unit - a good decision that I have not regretted. It helps that we have a small closet in the bathroom to store items in and not have to depend on the vanity for that purpose.
We also have the tiled tub. We ripped it all out - down to the exterior wall and put in a product called "cement board" which has been excellent in keeping the moisture in check. (the first time we remodeled, we put in "green board" which is supposed to be mildew-resistant, but it rotted out in just a couple years! We learned our lesson with that!).
Lastly, we installed a bathroom fan in the ceiling (vented through the attic) and this has helped immensely in keeping the moisture down (no more mildew-y walls, etc!).
Let me know if you have bathroom remodeling questions - we can help. I almost feel like an expert. LOL! The task you are about to proceed with is not for the faint of heart.
Good luck!
Mindy and Denise, thanks for your ideas and input. Denise, we do hope to install a fan--it just depends on whether it's possible--we're in a really tight spot with a landing above the tub and a stairway to the side. And we are fully prepared to install cement board. My dad is going in expecting the worst, which, with buckling tile like ours, is probably wise.
I would ideally go with a glass block window, but it just doesn't fit in our budget. We're happy going with an obscured-glass. Not nearly as fancy, but it will do the job.
Thanks for the encouragement, too! I'll pass it along to my husband. :)
Am I the only one who read, "Let's move along to a bigger project on the horizon. A project that fills me with equal mixtures thrill and fear," and thought that meant another baby was on the way?!
That bathroom certainly is an undertaking! But, I bet it will turn out great!
Katie.
Oh. Dear. Goodness.
i'm going to follow this post! we have a 1950s bathroom filled with blue tiles ALL over and a hanging ceiling with glass to cover the ugly ceiling itself --- it's eeww and i don't know what i can do with the whole thing on a small budget.
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