It's Electric! Part 2: Switches & Stuff

I'm in a concise mood. I'll keep this short.

Wife and I just plain don't have any light switches.
Father and I have cooked up a plan to remedy that though: bust holes in the wall and pull wires through it!

We only had a ceiling fan switch and a back porch light switch.
But when we are done, we are going to have not one, but TWO light switches, plus fan, and two additional for the new over-sink light and under-cabinet lights. YES!!

In case you don't know what a hole in the wall with wires hanging out of it looks like, it looks like this:

As Bro would say, teehee!

And that is all I have to say today. :)

It's Electric! Part 1: Outlets

Father is the hero of the electrical work. I did a lot of dreaming up what I wanted/needed, but I basically put Father in charge to figure out how and if we could make it happen. With his genius and my... my... well, with his genius we are getting it done.

The Old Junk

Our three old kitchen outlets were all run with old, crunchy, cloth-wrapped, not-so-grounded wire. Some of the outlets even crumbled and fell apart when I tried to pop the cover plates off. Yucky.

Left of sink: This is the only counter outlet we had, and I'm keeping it. But it's getting delicious new wire.

Fridge: Sorry, but I'm putting cabinets in front of you. You gotta go.

Microwave at the table: Remember that one? It will become the new fridge outlet, and it's getting new wire too. Muwahahaha!

The New Stuff

Father and I are adding at least four new outlets (dedicated gas stove, two counter outlets right of sink and dishwasher) and a power drop for the new vent hood.

To power all this stuff, Father and I cut, drilled, pulled, and spliced our way through the house... basement to attic. When we were done we had a sub-panel box in the basement to feed everything up.

Most of the old wire was stapled heavily to the wall frames, so pulling it out was tough. Trying to feed the new wire blindly through walls is not such a cake walk either, but Father has all the tools and knows all the tricks. I own a screwdriver and I can sort-of juggle, but that's about all I have to offer.

Oh, and that doesn't even touch the lighting and switches...

Squeaks, Honks, and the Tiptoe Dance

I really like old squeaky houses. There's just so much character in creaky staircases and door hinges.

But when the squeaks get too high pitched and mousy, or too low and turn to honks, we have a problem.

Our squeaky floors had gone way beyond warm antiquity to something more like, I don't know... a bullfrog choir... or dying geese. I'm not sure which.

Father suggested I use some screws to tighten things up a bit, so I took an evening to do just that. After measuring the location of all the floor joists from the basement I mapped out their location on the floor with some line guides.

I rubbed a little soap on the screws to help them go into the hardened wood a little better.

It really turned out to be quite easy. I just drove a few screws and then jumped around on my tiptoes listening for more honks. If I found one, I drove more screws.

Screws. Tiptoe dance. Screws. Tiptoe dance.

By the time I got done the floor was SILENT! Oh man, what a sweet victory!

Floors, Skirts, & Dijon Mustard

With cabinets out of the way, it was time to take up the flooring. I had NO idea what Father and I would find under there, but it had to go.

Check out what we found! (Drum roll please...)

Layer 1: 90s linoleum and floor board sheets

White linoleum (that of course never stayed white), followed by a layer of floor board that was HEAVILY stapled to the floor (I mean like every 2-3 inches). I guess that's more like layer 1 AND 2. Moving on...



Layer 2: 70s linoleum

The craziest rust/red/orange/cream/dijon mustard/brown floor you've ever seen! Father said it made awful flooring, but might make a nice skirt. I offered to make him one. He declined.



Layer 3: 50s-60s black & white checkered tile

Or at least I think it was white. It's pretty yellowed now. This place used to have a diner/poodle skirt/jukebox floor? Swell!



Layer 4: Weird blue stuff

This last layer was a swirl of different blues resembling marble. Strange stuff. A little like early linoleum, a little like tar paper, a lot like yuck.



Layer 5: The original sub floor sheets nailed to the diagonal floor slats

If we go any further we'll be in the basement. We better stop here.

It's funny, but the looks are pretty consistent with a makeover every 15 years: 1949, 1964, 1979, and 1994. Who knows, maybe this house had other layers that have since been removed. Maybe not. But it sounded good.

The sub floor is in surprisingly good shape, so we will not have to replace any of it.

The kitchen is looking more and more like a big empty room, and I am ready for the next phase.

Rinky-Dink Sink

OK, I lied. The sink itself isn't rinky-dink... this thing is a beast! Cast iron, double bowl, super deep, super wide--and it weighs a ton.

But the rest of it... not so good.

Father and I found a little surprise when chipping the back splash tile off: it was plastic! And not cool plastic either, because it was really thin and just snapped and broke everywhere.

The back of the plastic tiles were concave and had been filled with some kind of glue, or liquid nails, or something. What a mess. How am I going to get that off?

Well, with no effort at all Father and I just lifted the whole sink and counter top and everything right off the cabinet base. Then we gently lifted the cabinet and it came right up too... hardly nailed to anything at all.

We just kept hauling the junk outside, one piece at a time (reminds me of Johnny Cash's car). Like a good redneck I am keeping the sink and other unwanted fixtures in the yard--for now anyway.

Since the water pipes came up through the floor, then into the wall, and then out of the wall to the faucet, it took a little cutting and working to get them out. We are definitely not putting the new pipes back that way. Instead of a wall-mounted faucet I just want a sink-mounted faucet, you know, like normal people.

With cabinets, sink, sink base, faucet and tile removed, I'd say we are in the running for the Ugliest Kitchen on the Planet award. But we still have the floor to go...

And speaking of UGLY...

No More Cabinets

Most newly-built houses these days have pre-made cabinets installed in them. Not so in our house. It must have been the thing back in 1949 to build them to the wall piece by piece.

I could so easily have ripped these bad boys down in a manly fury of power tools and splinters, but I probably would have brought down chunks of plaster wall with it. Not cool!

To better preserve the walls and be less stupid I decided to use methodical deconstruction, so I sought outside help...knowledgeable help...free help.

I called Father.

We started by taking the doors off.
Then the molding.
Then that scallop-edged board thingy over the sink. What is that anyway?

The old cabinets ended up coming down just as they had gone up: one board at a time. Behind them we found naked plaster walls untouched by 61+ years of painting...

...but the fun was just beginning...

Enough Lollygagging

OK, I've covered the major issues that warrant a remodel. There are tons of additional things that need help, but they aren't major enough to mention...

...Like the bowed counter that is pulling away from the sink and letting dishwater leak on my oatmeal: manageable.
...And the chipped back splash tile, squeaky floor, leaky faucet, and faulty plumbing: totally livable.
...And having no light switch, no light over the sink, cabinet doors that won't stay closed, etc.: not even going to bring it up.

In fact, enough lollygagging. It's time to roll.

Wife and I packed everything up and moved it out of the kitchen: dishes, table, flyswatter--everything. (OK, everything but the curtains.)

We've budgeted, we've planned, we've researched.
I've mapped out our steps from A to Z.
We've identified the must-havs and listed the can-do-withouts.
Corners have been cut, money saved, sleep lost.

The only thing left to do now is to take a big swig of sweet tea...and grab a crowbar.