Who knew that a range hood could be this exciting?

Figuring out what our range hood would look like was no easy task. Originally we were going to have a stainless steel wrapped hood enclosure. But then I began to feel like that might be more stainless than I wanted given that our kitchen opens onto the family room. In the end we decided on a painted hood with straight sides to meet the open shelving that will flank it, and a slight slope on the front up to the ceiling.

Having it in place was giving me a real groove. I am now able to imagine cooking in this space.

The bottom of the hood will have a very simple wood molding. I didn't want it to look fancy.

 

Just waiting for the counter and appliances.

Just a simple bead on the top and bottom of each drawer.

The drawer beneath the wall oven is going to fit more than one Le Creuset  and the top drawer on the left is where I am going to keep the cling film and aluminum foil.

The Butler's Pantry is almost ready for the butler

The uppers and the lower doors have their first coat of Farrow and Ball's Hague Blue.

 

That hole in the walnut countertop is going to have a beautiful, hammered, polished nickel sink in it.

This backsplash, walls and ceiling of this alcove are all paneled and will be painted the same color
as the cabinets. The effect should be quite striking.

Driveways are boring but necessary

    
Lot of unsexy stuff happening in the driveway. We have grade issues, buried drainage lines, use easements...it gives me a headache. Just want it to be done.

The garage door arrived!

 


The mudroom door with its first coat of Farrow and Ball's 'Pigeon'

Even though the driveway will be about 12" above the lower existing grade, you can see we will have some transition issues to connect with our neighbor's yard.

 

The edge of the new driveway.

A sample of the granite edging for the driveway.

 

 

We have a phone in our shower...

 
Well, not really.

In person, polished nickel really does look different than polished chrome.

Finally a shower I don't have to duck to get under.

This Carrera subway tile from Waterworks is remarkably inexpensive and looks pretty fabulous.

Our custom made medicine cabinets were about half the cost of the Waterworks version we wanted. And way better built.

This toilet is actually in the guest bathroom, but it is the same as the one in our master bath.

I could do an entire post on toilet choices but I will spare you. I will say that toilet choice is a not unimportant thing to consider. Number one concern: NO 'COMFORT' HEIGHT toilets for us. Comfort height refers to toilets that are taller so that the old and infirm have an easier time getting up from the seat. But I got news for you people, our bodies were not made to poo a those angles. The lower your butt to the ground, the closer your knees are to your chest, that's how you get the pipes moving and keep them healthy. So, we got a lower bowl. We also got an elongated bowl. The original toilets in this house were too round and well, I will stop there.  As for toilet design, we wanted it as plain as possible. Seat? We didn't want to pay $66 for the plastic, easy close seat that Toto is famous for. We want something with a little more heft and solidity. Who cares if someone makes a noise at 2:00 am when they accidentally drop the seat?

Serious Art

As we slide into the final two months of our renovations and have to pay for moving expenses, floor coverings (probably sea grass in most places), and transition from construction to permanent financing, the last thing we needed was another expense. And I haven't even mentioned the deferred maintenance on the car finally, and unavoidably, caught up with us. So what do we do? We buy a painting.

When I met John he was a huge fan of the abstract expressionist artist Jon Schueler (1916-1992), a member or the New York School of painters who swirled with the likes of Rothko. Through his cousin in New York, John was friends with the artist's wife Magda (she is too lively to be thought of as a widow). Our first Thanksgiving together was spent in Greenwich Village where I not only met Magda, but got to see three or four really amazing Schuelers that belonged to his cousins. On a subsequent trip to New York, John got a chance to pick out his very own Schueler painting, albeit a small one. About 10" x 12". It was painted in 1979 and is called "Galeforce: Waiting". It's a subtly beautiful study of the sky and ocean off the coast of Mallaig, Scotland, presumably while there was some weather happening. It has had pride of place in the four different bedrooms we have occupied in the past decade. In all cases it has been interesting to see the various moods it takes on in the changing, indirect light, that filters into our mostly north-facing rooms. No doubt, almost like the changing moods of the skies over Mallaig.

When we moved into our house in 2010, we realized that our small, art collection was really a small-art collection. With one exception, we really didn't have anything of a big enough size to hold it's own on even a modestly, big wall. Most of what we had was picked up here there, often while traveling, and, while enjoyable, didn't really give us much to work with. We needed something bigger.

Then, a few weeks ago, John came across a Schueler up for auction and we decided it was too good to pass up. It was from the late 70s/early 80s which is the period of Schueler's work John likes most. At 24" x 36" it was a size that could comfortably fill a real wall, and it was buried in an auction catalog with a bunch of frou-frou antiques and fussy figurative painting so we thought we could actually have a chance of winning it. Which we did. Similar to our existing Schueler, it is called "Waiting" and it is beautiful. The title seems particularly apt given that we have been waiting so long to start and now complete our house project, not to mention that we will still need to do a bit more waiting before we can go back to New York to pick out another one.

Our mish-mash of enjoyable, but small art.

 

A few earlier, bolder Schuelers.

 

 

A Yellow Sun (1958)

National Galleries of Scotland

 

Snow Cloud Over the Sound of Sleat, New York 1959

(Cross posted at My Porch)

Marching bands aside, 'brassy' is never a good thing

Aging brass. I have to say, this is a project I resisted like mad. Months ago, when John first brought it up, the contractor and I both just wanted to pretend like we hadn't heard him. We have to dip what in what? Huh? I thought he had forgotten it but then he brought it up again a few weeks ago. So I told him he had better order the product and then we would figure out what to do once we got it. When we got it we decided that it might be better if we did the dipping ourselves. A little too hard to explain to the contractor, and in retrospect, probably would have cost us a penny or two to have them do it.

The result? I must say this is a situation when John was 2,000% percent on the right track. If we hadn't have done this I know I would have been unhappy (and he would have been even more unhappy) with all the too-shiny brass in the house. Now, I think the hardware is gorgeous and very fitting for our house. I'm so glad I gave in and I'm so glad we worked on it together. 

I had to start off with an after picture just because it was so pretty. These are the knobs for our interior doors AFTER we aged them. They are from Baldwin and they are solid and heavy and feel wonderful. Can't wait to see them installed. We went with the 1.75" knobs over the more common 2" knobs. Seemed more appropriate for our house.

We are beautiful, but too damn brassy. So why not get a finish that is closer to what we wanted? John wanted the properties of unlacquered brass--that is it ages and gets a nice patina over time, but didn't want to wait the years it would take to get that. Plus, you have to just look at this picture to realize that these are just too shiny for an 80-year old house.

The same knobs after we dipped them in acid (more on that later).

The knob in front has been dipped but not yet rubbed with 0000 steel wool. The ones in back have been rubbed.

A pile of completed knobs. Don't they look like they came out of an old house?

Here's a lot of shiny window locks. And yes, we dipped the screws as well.

One before the dip, one after the dip.

All of them dipped but before the steel wool. Unfortunately, we didn't take a picture of the completed locks.

These are "ballcaps" for our door hinges after they were dipped and given a once over with the steel wool.

The rosettes that will go behind the knobs before dipping.

The same rosettes after dipping.

Not only did we have to unpack all the parts--these are hinge packages--but we also had to repack them so nothing would get lost for the installers.

Hinges before the dip.

The dip itself. The directions say soak between 1 and 10 minutes but we took ours out after only 10 seconds. I can't imagine what 10 minutes would have looked like. 

The parts get soaked in the brass ager.

Then you give them a rinse.

A batch after their dip.

Our dining room sweatshop showing John rubbing them with 0000 steel wool.

The final product. So much more appropriate than the bright shiny original. Go back and look again.

You're right, most sweat shops don't have glasses of wine on the work bench.
Those stacked boxes are the dipped and burnished hinges already complete.

Some one needs to tell the State of California how useless this piece of paper in every single boxes is. What is the likelihood a pregnant woman is going to eat a hinge?