Their Kitchen, Our Kitchen

OK, let's get right down to it, folks:

Their Kitchen











Our Kitchen.

We can't write much now because Metropolitan Home is coming to shoot tomorrow morning and we have to buff and wax the particleboard.














We're really proud of the stove and sink, both of which actually work. We read about how granite countertop wasn't so good for the environment, and we figured, you know, we can really reduce our environmental impact by having NO countertops!

(the wooden thing on the right there was built by Katherine out of salvaged lumber to address the no-countertop-having situation. She did a really good job, actually. At some point it will be a potting table in the backyard, but right now it makes our semi-kitchen more semi-usable.)

What's really exciting here is that we're starting to talk about our apartment, the tenant's apartment being almost done. And we can't tell you how happy that makes us.

Adventures in Bathroom Tile

This is a picture of Katherine doing something we don't see much of these days. It rhymes with tiling.

Seriously. Katherine has become an expert tiler. See that big butch-looking bucket? It's full of mortar. My girlfriend is such a tough-ass.







This is the newly-tiled floor. The alignment got a little wacky, but "done" is the new black.
















These are Katherine's expertly laid wall tiles. Above the blue are the tiles so arduously grouted by me (see my semi-coherent whining HERE). Below are ungrouted tiles. If you are a grout connoisseur, like me, you can infer all kinds of metaphysical information from the grouted vs. ungrouted tile. But I wouldn't expect the uninitiated to understand. Do, however, please pause to appreciate that Katherine mitered the blue accent tile. The accent tile is rounded, and protrudes from the other tile, so the place where it meets at the corner is a little complicated. Katherine, dork that she is, figured out how to miter tile, and I love her for it.


This is another of our adventures. Katherine dutifully tiled right up to the pipe. It was so neat and tidy! She attempted to fit the thingamahooey that controls the water temperature onto the pipe, and was stymied. It didn't fit. Turns out that the plumber had installed a plastic guide so the tiler would know where to stop tiling. The contractor who hung the drywall helpfully removed that weird piece of plastic that looked like it wasn't doing anything and didn't replace it. So I fitted our handy Dremel tool with a ceramic-cutting bit and started cutting. This hole took over an hour, but what was really exciting was the nerve damage from the vibration. Yahoo! I can't feel my hands but the f-ing shower works!






And the moment you've all been waiting for - the finished bathroom. Actually, I'm sure you haven't been waiting for it, but we bloody well have. Voila!

Why didn't we create a food blog?

Then we would be going to restaurants instead of painting, sawing, trimming, screwing (not the good kind). If the ceiling leaks in a restaurant, we are not responsible.

Oh well. Too late. The ceiling leaked, and we are responsible. (The light fixture is, indeed, full of water.)

We are almost at the end of the road with the upstairs apartment. A little painting, and really, that's it. Oh, and the ceiling, I almost forgot: cutting out the damaged drywall, patching, compounding, sanding, and painting. That'll only take, say, two days. Grrr.

It won't be long before we can start all of this again (whee!) on our own apartment. Unlike with the upstairs, however, we can take our time, limited only by how long we are willing to live in total chaos. Don't you wish your living room was filled with handy tools and lumber like ours is? We're short on the sofas, chairs, and general comfort of the traditional living room, it's true. But we've got ambiance. Perhaps we should open a restaurant.