Best Thing Evar

Love this series so much.

A Reward

Last year, Iain asked for Christmas lights. We said no. We said, "eat chicken." "Eat french fries." He said no.

This year, he eats chicken. He even ate some french fries. Once.

So we gave him lights. It's pretty and romantic, but awfully bright at 3am. Also, that thing in the window is a "ghost leftover from Halloween. In case you wondered. We like to layer our holiday swag.

Ok, Stop Crying. Here It Is

I didn't photograph the details. Sue me. But you can see the major changes here. New shower with plain white subway tiles (shiny, not matte). New glass door. New floor (pebbles), new shower heads (each side has a head, a temperature control, and an on/off control). Newly-glazed tub, new teak wall with concealed storage, new mirror, new sink, faucet, and cabinet.

New slate floor, new golden, buttery wall color. New light fixture, new ceiling height in the shower (higher), new towel warmer cum radiator. New towels and bath mats. New can lights in the ceiling. New fan (just as loud - as requested by me - but more effective).

So far, no new trashcan. We have to figure that out. Also, our magnetic, touch-triggered latches are a mixed bag. They work ok on the teak wall, but when you lean in to brush your teeth the doors to the vanity pop open. Didn't think of that. Oh, well.

Almost There

Let's talk about shower doors. Turns out, you need up to ten days to fabricate a glass shower door.

"So what?" you say. "You can order it and wait while they do the demo."

No, actually. You can't order it until the tile goes in. You need extremely specific measurements. So the whole bathroom comes out. The walls go back up. The tile sticks to the putty and finally, FINALLY you can measure and then order the door.

Cue ten days. Unless, of course, you've bumped up against Thanksgiving. In that case...hard to say.

So here you see it, nearly done. Floor: in. Tile: in. Sink: in. Tub: deliciously shiny. Teak wall: concealing a nice cabinet worth of storage. I can pile in my half-used tubes of hand cream and 3-packs of toothbrushes (must have fresh toothbrush regularly) alongside the hairbrushes and cans of child-friendly sunscreen. And no one needs to see. Yay!

Also filed under "Yay": the little shelf for shaving (see it in there? Just big enough for your foot), the toilet seat that doesn't slump when you sit on it, the handheld shower head on my side (stationary on Charles's side) so I can wash the dog occasionally...ahh details.

Next stop: completion.

Walls. Not Much Else.

Eventually, the contractor removed the toilet and bathtub. The toilet relocated to the garage (nothing like getting in and out of the car next to your toilet for a month). The tub suffered from orange spots in the bottom - places where the glaze had become too thin. So we sent it away for re-glazing.

In the shower, plumbing, then valves, then floor tile (not really tile but small, grey pebbles in an epoxy grout), then dry wall appeared.

And there it all sat for a week or so. Finally, a gentle nudge ("Hey, so...this was a 2-week job and we're entering week 4. Any thoughts?" I did not make this call. I was grouchy.) brought a flurry of activity.

More on that next time.

Demo

It's amazing how long folks can take to tear out walls, tile, toilets and sinks. A week. Srsly.

Bathroom Renovation, Step 1

Observe, a not-too-bad bathroom.

Notice the elegant mini-potty.

So the old bathroom wasn't so bad. But what you can't easily see is the way that every little thing seemed to be just a little wrong/broken/old/peeling/dirty/ugly.

For example, the beadboard. It was painted white, but because of temperature variations it could gap between panels in winter. The gaps reached a quarter-inch width. So the paint tore away and even in summer when the wood expanded and the beadboard closed up the paint looked sort of feathery where it was peeling away.

Also, the tile always looked like cream tile covered in mud. Also, the toilet had a lid made of plastic. When you sat on it there was a five-second lag, then the lid slumped in the center. Ploof! Down you go,    slipping into the depression. It felt like falling into the toilet and every time we sat down with Iain to supervise bath time we waited for that slumpy feeling.

Every piece of hardware and lighting came straight from the cheapest aisle at the Home Depot. Not the nicer things they carry - the $4 light fixture and the $10 faucet. The white circle it on the tub shower head kept falling off. The "hot" and "cold" indicators on the handles fell off. Etc. etc. ad infinitum.

I also hated the decorative tile strip in the shower. That's merely aesthetic. But the disintegrating shower door was a serious issue. It leaked, it wobbled disturbingly, it was crusted with something.

So we tore it all out. Down to the studs. And started over. Same layout (partly to save money, partly because there wasn't anything wrong with the layout), new materials better installed.

More photos to come.