Friday, June 1, 2018
If These Walls Could Talk
As part of our kitchen re-do, we replaced the stainless steel backsplash with copper tiles. It's just as sanitary, but a lot nicer to look at. Once the sinks, counters, and cabinets were removed it was easy to pull off the big sheet of stainless and hand it over to a guy with a truck who does recycling.
That exposed the moisture-resistant drywall, and the original bead board behind it. I removed the drywall and carefully pried loose a couple of pieces of the bead board where I needed to get behind them. I numbered each board with a piece of tape so they'd go back into place.
The bead boards are pretty beat-up, and many have round or square holes cut in them for no apparent reason. My guess is that the plumbing has moved around a lot, and the old holes are evidence of old pipes long removed. They're also painted two different colors, and I can't see a lot of logic to where the color changes.
We didn't need to make any substantial plumbing changes, but I did take the opportunity to clean up some old pipe that was in the way.
This shows a section of old galvanized pipe behind the kitchen wall that isn't being used anymore. Presumably, it was the drain from the original kitchen from waaay back. It hasn't been used in decades; it certainly wasn't connected to anything when we bought the house, and it's not wet inside.
It's hard to tell from this photo, but the pipe is wider at the bottom than at the top. From the drain plug down, it's 2" galvanized pipe, but from the drain upwards it's 1-1/2" pipe.
That means it's a "dry vent," a pipe that only carried water downwards, not from anything above it on the upper floors. And since there's no fixture connected to it now, the entire run is empty and abandoned. I'd considered removing it completely... but why? It doesn't hurt anything and it's a nice reminder of how the house used to be plumbed.
What we did do is cut a small section out of the pipe to remove the protruding drain plug. The missing section now has a short run of ABS, with a coupler at one end to adjust for the differing diameters.
And here's some of the new copper backsplash.
Kitchen v1.1
Around the end of February we decided to tweak the downstairs kitchen a bit. Nothing major, but we found that the arrangement of the sinks, cabinets, and worktop weren't optimal. So we took a few weeks off of work and made it all better.
Initially, we'd located all the major kitchen appliances -- sinks, hood vent, refrigerator, etc. - exactly where they'd been before when there was a restaurant here. We figured (a) that a professional restaurateur would know the best place to put everything, so we'd just follow their lead, and (b) that health codes and/or city ordinances might limit our options. Those both turned out to be untrue. The arrangement was awkward, as we discovered over a few years working in that kitchen. Not terrible or anything, but not ideal, either.
Before... |
Our downstairs kitchen is basically divided into two rooms, one larger than the other. The small room used to have the main work surface and a small sink, while the large room had the big sink. Swapping the two sinks was pretty straightforward: just reverse the sinks and leave the plumbing in place. Same drains, same hot/cold supplies. Just swap the hardware. Simple!
...and after. |
The photo above shows the old L-shaped counter top and cabinets. The problem we had with this arrangement was that the sink cut the work surface in two, so there was never a large place to roll out dough or to place a full-size sheet pan. After the change, this space became the triple-basin sink.
In the bigger room, the space that was occupied by the big sink is now one long butcher block counter. All the cabinets that came out of the small room are now lined up under the new work surface. Same cabinets, just arranged differently.
The one tricky cabinet was the L-shaped lazy Susan that used to be in the corner. I disassembled it and made it into one straight cabinet using all the same pieces. Corner cabinets have funny hinges, however, so we had to source new hardware for the cabinet doors, but that wasn't a huge deal.
Here's a look at the new work surface, where the big sink used to go. It's a hard maple Boos Block, made to commercial NSF-certified quality. (There's even an NSF logo "tattooed" into the side of the wood.) Strangely, it's about the same total size as the old L-shaped maple counter, but it's far more useful because it's not broken up into smaller pieces. I love it.
Under the Big Top
"I see bug people."
The B&B next door to us got tented the other day, which affected us in a small way. The exterminators needed to get into our backyard to assemble the tenting, and they needed to partially disassemble the fence between the two properties. During all of this, the B&B was vacant, of course, so we had no neighbors for a few days apart from the fearless guys climbing all over the roof of the buildings next door.
The big, brightly colored tent lent a festive atmosphere to the neighborhood. It's made out of square pieces clamped together with oversize clothespins. First, the installers put padded scraps of carpeting on the chimneys, roof corners, and other sharp projections. Then they draped the tent over the roof and down the sides, finally weighting it down at the bottom with big sandbags. Because there's no easement between our property and theirs, they needed to get into our backyard to stretch the tent across the back side of the B&B. That's no big deal, and the installers were very nice about not disrupting anything or trampling any plants.
There are two places where our community fence abuts their building, however, and the installers had to cut this away to make room for the tent. (Otherwise, the tent would have draped over the fence, which isn't airtight.) They'd warned us about this a few weeks ahead of time and, frankly, we were thrilled. We've never really liked that fence very much and we were kind of looking forward to replacing it anyway. The opportunity to tear it down and split the cost of rebuilding it suits us just fine.
The whole process took three days, which seems pretty normal. There's one day of tent assembly, one day of gassing the interior, and one day to disassemble it all again.
Their building is only two stories tall in most places, but it's almost as high as our three-story house because it's slightly uphill from us and it's built on a slightly taller foundation. We can look across to their roof, or slightly down onto their second-floor guest rooms. Even so, it's pretty high up and I'm impressed that the installers can scamper about on that roof with no trouble. It's a long way down. but maybe the big padded tent material would make a good cushion.
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