One of the things that we like about our house is the fact that it hasn't been tinkered with a whole lot. It still looks much like it did when it was first built in 1931. A funny time to build a house, really, when you think about it. Still reeling from the crash of '29, the country was in the thick of the Great Depression. Ours was always meant to be a modest house, and yet they still outfitted it with hand-glazed tile in both the kitchen and bathroom and oak flooring throughout. Lucky for us, all of that is mostly still intact. And so when we endeavored to update our bathroom all we really wanted to do was replace the tile floor which had definitely seen better days:
Kristopher and his Dad (Esme's Pop and an expert in these matters) were going to do the work themselves. Another lucky break. Kris figured the work would take 3, at most 4 days. Though we liked the funky black and white tile design, our vintage pink and black bathroom already has a lot going on, so instead we opted for a more understated, yet still period, white hexagonal tile.
A plumber had warned us about taking up that floor. "You'll find a hornet's nest," he said. We didn't exactly find a hornet's nest, but it was a quite a mess. Basically beneath the floor was a pit filled with ash, cinder and gravel. Beneath all this was a false ceiling. Kris and his Dad spent hours hauling all of that debris out of the bathroom and down to the garage. While this was all underway, they also discovered a slow leak oozing from one of the pipes. This was most likely a result of the demolition, though later we learned, as these were the original threaded iron pipes, that this was an accident waiting to happen. This leak set us back two days on the project as a plumber had to come in and replace all the bathroom plumbing. And since we wanted to preserve the walls (and that hand-glazed tile), he had to use flexible plastic piping throughout from basement to bathroom at the tune of... oh, I can't even bring myself to type it here. Let's just say Esme won't be getting that pony this year.
With pipes in place, Kris and his Dad set about building a new floor and laying the tile. This they did beautifully.
So now the plan all along was just to replace the floor, we wanted to keep the orginal fixtures because they still worked, they looked pretty good and, well, we were, at least when we started out, on a budget. Well, first the sink went. We hoped to recoat it in order to brighten it up and hide some rust stains that developed over the years. This didn't go as planned. The result was more like a thick slathering of paint and less like a fresh coat of porcelain. So we bought a new sink. What the hell, might as well do our part for the economy. Then the toilet went. This we knew was a possibility. Apparently old toilets, like sleeping dogs, should just be left alone. Once you try to put them back, they leak like a sieve. So we went back and bought the toilet. Thank God we could keep our tub.
All in all the project took twice as long as planned. Pop was incredibly generous with his time and expertise. And Kristopher, with his usual aplomb, somehow managed to balance this renovation gone wrong and his day-to-day work responsibilities. And Esme and I are particularly indebted to Grandma and Grandpa who put us up all that time we were without a bathroom. Even after we moved back in we were still at the mercy of plumbers as there were all sort of little things and issues that kept popping up. But, and I'm crossing my toes as I type this, I think that's all behind us now:
And for those of you who checked in not to hear me ramble on about the bathroom, but to see a recent picture of the girl, I've got you covered, fear not:
Thanks to Nana for the jacket!
The much delayed Thanksgiving post is here. It's been a hectic few weeks. First leading into the holiday with all the responsibilities that come with hosting, then the weeks following which included Kristopher's 6-day trip to India. So forgive me for not posting sooner, but it really has been difficult finding the time!
So in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I want to express my appreciation for Esme's family. She is a lucky girl indeed, from all her wonderful aunts. Each one unique and uniquely special to her (what's more, thanks to them she also has loving uncles in her life). To her full set of grandparents. I grew up without the benefit of grandfathers. Seeing Esme interact with hers is especially meaningful to me. Plus she's already forged such special relationships with her Nama and Nana, it's hard to believe she's only known them a mere 16 months. I was just chuckling watching her have a full conversation with her Nana on the phone last night. Walking around, phone to ear, responding to every, long-distance word. In addition to her grandmas, Esme even has great grandmas and a great grandpa too. All of whom hold very special places in her heart.
