W is for…

W

…Wooden you want this floor?

The first couple of days of the kitchen/bath/laundry renovation are behind me now and it’s been a bit of a roller coaster already.

One of the discoveries as demolition started was that the kitchen and bathroom still had original wood floors under the ugly linoleum.

When my contractor called me to let me know of the find, the entire linoleum floor had not yet been removed. He wanted me to consider refinishing the wood floor instead of purchasing a new floor. I told him I’d consider it.

But inside I was resisting this idea. I have never cottoned to the idea of wooden floors for a kitchen, any more than to the idea of carpeting in a kitchen. Ugh. Impractical.

But so many people love and have wood in the kitchen. What was I missing? I spent the evening and the next morning visioning my kitchen with a rich, warm wooden floor, full of character from the life it’s lived since 1929.

By the time I next heard from the contractor, I was convinced I needed to save the kitchen floor. I imagined how it would warm up the space and add colour and ambience to my Euopean-looking kitchen. And also pay a nod to the heritage of my home.

Then came the call: the rest of the kitchen floor was in too bad of a shape to consider saving the original wood. There had been a closet (pantry?) at some point and there were too many sections of the floor missing.

Death of the dream...
Death of the dream…or is it???

I had to re-wrap my head around the original black and white checkerboard floor idea. Which was now almost as hard as accepting the idea of a wood floor!

Huh?

I let my flooring guy know to continue to prepare the tiling quote for me. I looked up photos black and white floors on the innernetz and once again I was in total love with my black and white floor vision.

So this morning my contractor showed up with a laundry list of things for me to consider. And, you guessed it, he has figured out a way he thinks he can save the floor. With strips of the same  hardwood carefully removed from the bathroom floor. He’ll have a price for me later on this week.

Remember that sappy 70’s song “Torn Between Two Lovers”? I can’t get it out of my head for some reason. 😉

The WB

V is for…

V

…Vision

Sometimes it takes one little thing to be the catalyst in order for the vision to crystallize out of the murky solution of ideas swirling around in my mind.

This happened to me this week, regarding my renovation. I was out with my contractor, looking for floor and wall tiles for my bathroom. I had nothing firm in my mind…I just knew I wanted something very plain and light for the walls. And I was confident I would find something to match for the floor. Sometimes I’m a “I don’t know what I want but I’ll know it the moment I see it” type person when it comes to decorating my person or my abode.

Well, I saw some slate floor tiles at the first place and I was stopped cold. I suddenly remembered how struck I had been with multi-coloured slate the first time I ever saw it, years ago with JD at Home Depot. So right then I knew I had to have slate on the bathroom floor. A visit to 3 more stores was needed to find the perfect batch of slate – a mix of pinks, pale burgundies, greens and bronzes – that just happened to be on sale.

IMG_1560
I will never tire of admiring this slate.

Now my vision for the bathroom has crystallized to a serene white spa retreat with a showstopping (to me, anyways), fabulously coloured natural slate floor.

And no chandelier over the tub for me anymore – too busy now (plus I’d be fretting over dusting/cleaning it instead of relaxing in my soaker tub). Last night I found a fixture at IKEA more suitable to my new vision (AND budget!):

soder-pendant-lamp__0120510_PE277181_S4
Ahhhhhhh…..

I should have remembered that this would happen to me.

In my first home of my own as a newly-single woman in 2000, I pulled all the wall colours for the whole house from a Mucha print poster of a Moet & Chandon champagne ad that I found at a flea market.

$_35

It’s funny how a single object can create a vision for a whole room or even a whole house. But that’s how it works for me. Anyone else decorate in this way?

The WB

 

 

S is for…

S

…Satisfaction

Now that I am pretty much in total control of my own life again, I find it a lot easier to achieve satisfaction from whatever tasks I am doing. (Gawd, that makes me sound like a bossy bitch, doesn’t it?!).

I spent many years performing tasks to make JD happy (and if sometimes it made me happy too – BONUS!).  If it sounds like I am more of a giver by nature and JD was a taker (or shall we say: JD’s OCD a taker), you’re probably right. After all, I wasn’t struggling with an anxiety disorder so why couldn’t I be the one to bend? It seemed easier for me to do this and make our life together more pleasant, more satisfying.

Always Usually what JD wanted done was  a tremendous bit of overkill compared to what I thought was needed to get the job done. So certain things took forever or just didn’t get done.

Like changing the bed, as an example – for him it was such an ordeal so he wanted to do it as infrequently as possible. Every piece of bedding needed to be taken outside individually, and shaken thoroughly before it could make to the washer. Comforters had to be aired on the line for a set number of hours. Mattress had to be flipped, etc. etc.

I like to change bedding more frequently than he did, but he wouldn’t let me do it alone – how did he think I managed before he came into my life?? It became a source of frustration to get this done, instead of a pleasant, satisfying chore.

It often got so I couldn’t stand the thought of crawling between those sheets anymore. I used to wait till I was alone in the house for a few hours to strip the bed, wash and dry the bedding, and carefully make up the bed again with the same sheets before he returned. I didn’t use fabric softener and ruffled up the sheets a bit, figuring then he wouldn’t notice and somehow, even with his OCD-fueled hyper-awareness about EVERYTHING, he never did. So his need for all the rituals associated with bed-changing didn’t get tweaked, and my OCD about sleeping in clean sheets got satisfied. A guilt-inducing win-win, for sure.

When I look back on this now, it seems so silly for a strong, adult woman to have to sneak around her own place like this in order to do common household chores. Believe me though, it was better than fighting with JD’s illness night and day. The anxiety disorder always comes first, always wins – in my experience.

I think of these things every time I change the bed, pull out the vacuum, sweep a floor, place my grocery bags (or anything for that matter) on the floor to unpack…all things I used to take for granted and do without thought, and now can do again. All things that drove JD’s OCD crazy.

People usually think of a person with OCD being obsessed with cleaning, and doing it constantly. JD could be like that with hand washing, for certain very important (to him) activities only, such as paperwork. When it came to things like bed-changing, sweeping and vacuuming, he felt this released dust that contaminated everything so these chores were extremely difficult to get done.

These chores, these little things, are so, so satisfying now in their ease of execution. I wonder how long it will be before I take them for granted again.

The WB

 

R is for…

R

…Renovation Madhouse Madness

So, the plans I have been mulling, scheming, tweaking and refining for the past year are about to become reality…in a very big hurry. My apartment renovation is now ON. My kitchen and bathroom will be completely gutted later this week in preparation for their brand new replacements. One of my spare rooms is being fitted to accept my laundry pair and another is getting the long-suffering, water-damaged ceiling fixed so it can become my future office.

I signed the paperwork with my contractor last night and the wheels are now spinning out of control very fast. Like zero to sixty fast. Like I have less than 48 hours to empty out my kitchen, bath, hallway and 2 spare rooms.

And did I mention I have a head that feels like cement and a nose that drips like my soon-to-be trashed leaky kitchen tap?

Isn’t there an adage somewhere that says you are supposed to sweat out a cold? Well my dears, I’ll be sweating up a storm the next couple of nights as I start the descent into Renovation Madness.

The WB

P is for…

P

…PurgE, The year of The

Last year’s overarching goal was to purge. Every spare moment was devoted to sorting through a lifetime (JD’s) of “stuff”, and deciding to recycle, toss or save.

In the end it took filling seven 14-yard dumpsters and creating untold number of tons of recyclables (mostly paper, cardboard and metal) to empty out the building I live in now. I should have kept track of all the bags of garbage I put to the curb. It wasn’t unusual for me to put 20+ bags out per week, for weeks on end. I nervously joked to people: If the City introduces a 2 bag/week garbage limit, look at yours truly to find the catalyst for this decision.

The night before garbage pickup day was like Christmas Eve for me as I anticipated with way too much excitement coming home the following day from work to see that week’s crop of lumpy black garbage bags and (dozens of) cardboard boxes of recyclables “magically” gone from the curb.

The lady at the other end of the phone at the bin rental company would chuckle when she recognized my voice.  Sometimes I was able to fill a dumpster in less than a day…by myself (!)…if the sorting went easy. But mostly it took longer. I am so grateful for all the hours, days and weekends family and friends so graciously spent helping me get through the towering piles of stuff in each room.

It was a similar story at the home I owned before JD came into my life. In the 11 short years we were together, he had managed to fill the garage, basement, and spare rooms full of things his OCD would not let him  throw away, and at the time the cancer struck he was slowly but very surely crowding me out of the other rooms in the house.

In the months before JD’s diagnosis, I was coming to the realization that sooner or later I would have to rent a room somewhere for just myself…a place to breathe for a couple of hours, a place that the OCD couldn’t touch…in order to maintain both my sanity and my marriage.

The Year of the Purge started the November day after his peaceful death in the ICU and continued until the following Thanksgiving weekend. I had estimated a year for this project and that was pretty close. It took 11 months of back-breaking work to get to where I could tackle that last room in the remotest corner of the basement of my building.

People asked why I just didn’t hire one of those services that advertise to come and take the junk away. There were several reasons. For one, I had no idea what was in many of the rooms – as I had been forbidden by JD to disturb their contents, or even cross the threshold for some. But most importantly, I so needed this very physical “therapy”.

I was working through my grief and anger and frustration with every box and bag I sorted through during this Year of the Purge.

I learned so much about JD the man as I uncovered some of the secrets he had kept in those rooms. Some of these things shocked and hurt me terribly.  Many nights found me wailing and cursing like a madwoman down the hallways that I paced alone for hours, in the wake of these revelations. But most of the things I found just made me so deeply sad for such a troubled soul as he.

Eventually I was able to feel even more compassion for my husband. It took longer than a year to work through the pain and anger and put my discoveries in some kind of perspective. Some days I am not sure I am fully “there” yet.  But I am definitely in a better place today than I was a year ago. I realize now more than ever the extent of the cruel grip OCD had had on his brilliant mind and how it had warped the essential self I fell in love with – the one I felt I alone was privileged to know – right down to the core.

It turns out that the Year of the Purge was about much more than just getting rid of the junk.

The WB

O is for…

O

…Outta my mind?!

Today I am feeling a bit overwhelmed as various projects involving or directly affecting my building (and home) are either looming, ongoing and/or requiring decisions…soon!

Here’s a partial list: New roof for building, kitchen/bath/laundry renovation, solar panel project, City street-scaping project…

Who created this mess? Me, for the most part.

Who will get me out of this mess? Me, for everything except the street-scaping affecting my property, which I don’t really have any “say” on. It’s a nagging worry because, although I am fully supportive of the improvements in the downtown core, I am having a hard time believing the City when they say my building’s steps won’t be affected. Even from this morning’s update, it still looks like they will be cutting directly into them.

Sometimes I feel I am outta my mind to be having my fingers in so many pies all at the same time. (Let us not forget I will be back in grad school in about 6 weeks….eek!). Then I remember I need to keep my eyes on the prize.

I am still confident that 6 months from now this will all have been worth it, even though I may go outta my mind between now and then!

I will keep you posted.

The WB

I is for…

I

…IKEA

Right now my living room smells like an IKEA warehouse.

Smells like IKEA spirit
Smells like IKEA spirit

Which is not a bad thing at all. It means I am that much closer to having my kitchen/bath renovation actually start. I will be posting many pictures (including   “Befores”) as things start happening around here.

My renovation started out as a vision, but like with all visions I had to come down to reality as I started investigating pricing. For example, my vision included high-gloss eggplant (dark purple) lower cabinets. Funnily enough, no one has eggplant kitchen cabinet doors as a stock item. I know – I was shocked too.

So, my revised vision is for black lower cabinets for the first 5-10 years, then to splash out on my custom eggplant doors when I win the lottery, per my life’s plan.

Happily enough the only true black cabinet doors at IKEA were also one of the cheapest most reasonable choices. And they will look just fine with my stainless steel countertops (gosh, I hope I can retain this part of the vision) and high gloss white upper cabinets.

Yesterday was a whirlwind of visits from my contractor. Morning, noon and night I had to be present as he brought various tradespeople through to look at the project in order to estimate their part in it. Exciting stuff!

Lighting is one part of the vision that has eluded me so far. But Jamie the electrician was most helpful in this regard. “You’re gonna want pot lights here, here and here in the kitchen. And pendants over the breakfast bar,” he said, while marking up the diagram in his hands. “Is your tub gonna be a soaker and separate from the shower?” I nodded. “Then you’re gonna want a chandelier above the tub,” he said. I was struck dumb for a moment. Then I fervently agreed. Yes. OH YES. I DO want a chandelier above my soaker tub. Jamie my man, I like your style I thought to myself.

Now if only the budget can sustain this new addition to the vision. Next week the numbers start rolling in, for real. I will keep you posted.

What are your thoughts about IKEA in general or their kitchens in particular? I think it’s a great store, so long as you are not interested in heirlooms to pass down through the generations. IKEA seems to divide the masses, but so far I am a fan.

The WB