Crash'n to Smash'n (kitchen, phase 1)

After hours and hours of designing and redesigning and re-redesigning the kitchen, I FINALLY pulled out my sledge hammer and violently removed the counters and cabinets! I felt such amazing buzz of energy blended together in a swarm of testosterone driven power and emotional relief to finally close the door on all the considerations and plans, landing on a single vision shared with my wife. Of course, everything is open for reconsideration until the hammer starts swinging and the wood starts flying.

Ah, the lovely art of demolition... Anarchy feeding my cerebral core in a focused frenzy with one thought to guide me: JOHN SMASH!!!!

The delicious dismantling sadly lasted only a few minutes, but the satisfaction lasted for hours. Mmmm....

In my quest to remove unwanted, undesirable artifacts from the mid 70's, I eagerly approached the chandelier hanging in all it's flowery glory. Killing the power, cutting the wires, and releasing the ceiling mounts all fit into the standard dismantling procedure to pull the thing down... But as I eased the vintage piece down, it gave a loud ZIP! sound and dropped violently to my feet, erupting into hundreds of glass and porcelain shards later to be found in some very obscure places around the kitchen.

One bit of fortune came when a majority of the lamp collected itself upon descent into a kitchen cabinet drawer that happened to be directly beneath the fixture in the crash zone. My wife felt no remorse at the loss, but rather praised the fact it died a horribly violent death.

Great effort went into cutting cabinets apart to reassemble them to match. I call them FrankenCabinets, and they look great for a guy who passed wood shop with a D-, and a basic box project that leaned heavily to the left. I also need to point out that my wife has a natural skill in the area, which saved the day several times.

When it came time to rebuild the kitchen, we purchased counters online through Lowes.com, and I happily made my way to retrieve them from the local store. Pretty impressive use of technology with a 20 minute promise to have the order ready.

Typically, I feel the human element is something that shouldn't be lost in this digital-heavy world, but in this scenario I feel the human element would've been best left out. The sales associate lady told me that my approach would make my kitchen "look like it was done by a grade schooler... "

Ack! Really??? Unbelievable...

The associate went on to treat me like a severe inconvenience... and worse. Did she have a bad morning? Did she simply hate the online order demanding to be filled in 20 minutes? Did she hate men? I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt...

Until she brought her attitude into full display when talking with several other associates at the front checkout.

"I basically had to do his project for him." She scoffed. "Thought he could order online as if he knew what he was doing."

I returned the following day to have a discussion with the manager... outside. The fact I asked the guy to step outside made him turn white, wearing body language that betrayed his expectation of the worst. I suppose I could've used a tone other than my Darth Vader voice, but I had a point to make. I calmly asserted my disapproval of the other sales associate, and after my brief monologue he relaxed and openly agreed with my statement: "The store has a virus that needs to be addressed sooner than later." I trust my Jedi mind tricks worked... The kitchen looks great... For now. The new range will be accompanied by a matching built-in microwave and new floors, but before that comes to pass, the popcorn ceiling must GO AWAY!

Furlough and Floors

Sunny skies of the last couple days brought forth finalized plans for the kitchen with the help of the amazing lady mentioned in my Kick Start blog posting. This monumental occasion marks the last cry of my heart: “Can’t we just do SOMETHING!?”

The Neanderthal inside demanded to start cutting cabinets, beating countertops apart, ripping carpet up, and in the words of The Hulk “Smash!” something.

Now that the designs are complete, and they are balanced between cost, quality, and the amount of anguish needed to accomplish the tasks has been found, I find the inner beast ready to take over… carefully, of course!

The first big purchase came last night with the selection of beautiful engineered hardwood flooring through LumberLiquidators.com. The sale, plus my wife’s amazing gift of finding a way to get 2% cash back (without applying for a credit card) made the purchase very tasty indeed!
 
Mayflower Bund Birch emerged as the chosen floor after touring hundreds of styles, colors, and textures. Exhausting, really.

One question she asked: “Have you installed engineered hardwood before?”

“Uh… nope!” I cheerfully replied. “But… I know Google, YouTube, and the DIY network to help along the way!” (I know how to speak her love language!)
 
So, this fantastic furlough Friday is spent preparing for the first step in transforming this 1977 vintage house into a gorgeous home we’ll love for years to come.

Kick start

Today I kick start my blog with ongoing updates of our new home, and other things stretching the loose strings of sanity that keep me grounded to reality...
After just over a week in our new home, we finally decided on the initial efforts to begin the remodeling of the vintage 1977 style home. We toiled to near exhaustion through the options, and even enlisted the guidance and advice from an amazing lady who has been down this road before. Our focus of frustration is centered on the kitchen, with the shallow, golden brown cabinets, brown counters, and yellow bulbous light that appears to be an unnatural growth than anything ornamental.
The adjoining breakfast area has a vintage chandelier that needs to be replaced before my wife takes it down with a single swing of our Louisville Slugger.
I've given myself seven days to replace the counter tops, cut and move a cabinet, replace the faucet, and yes... change the chandelier while it remains whole.
All that in addition to the other repairs not listed, but certainly need to be done. Like this weekend's gutter cleaning exercise that turned into an emergency repair to a storm drain that was damaged by underground TV cable installed years ago, apparently while no one watched. Next in line are the power outlets that intermittently function. I'm a bit concerned about opening that can of electric worms...
Standby for more details and historical accounts I will unravel as the days go by...

Two days with a Leaf

I had the opportunity to use a Nissan Leaf, Electric Vehicle (EV) for the last two days, and it turned into a comedy of errors that had nothing to do with the vehicle's performance but rather the fact that the range is extremely limited and terribly troubling for a new user who admittedly didn't plan ahead very well.

Day one started with great expectations of using a zero-emissions vehicle with the intent to charge it when I reached the city 45 miles north. As I searched for the charger, I realized I've never cared to acknowledge the presence of EV charging stations before, and didn't exactly know what to look for.

11 miles until empty...
As the rain dumped in raging buckets, I connected to a charging station only to find out it wouldn't accept my payment card. I found a station matching the card, but when I tried to use it, the machine refused to send the precious electricity into the nearly exhausted Leaf. Suddenly, a lady appeared beside me, accusing me of pulling the charger off her vehicle to charge mine. I explained my situation, and that I was innocent of her charges against me. She relaxed, and as she left she told me that the charger doesn't work sometimes. I gasped! Already late for a meeting, I decided to recharge afterward. This unfortunate encounter with a malfunctioning machine postponed my dilemma for a couple hours, only to find charging station #2 locked inside an underground parking garage!

5 miles until empty... My contact directed me across the city to a quick charge station, which dropped me into a set of one-ways and blocked accesses while alerts sounded through the computer system causing some minor flashes of anxiety and images of pushing the car down the dark rainy streets.

3 miles until empty... Found the charging station! After a 30 minute wait and a warm bowl of cheesy potato soup, I hit the road again. 80% charge = 84 miles until empty...

5 miles later - 64 miles until empty!
7 miles later - 48 miles until empty!
10 miles later - 23 miles to empty!

I lost 61 miles of travel and I suddenly needed to find a charging station along the I-5 corridor, which I hadn't planned for at all. With 3 miles of power remaining (if the number means anything at all) I rolled to a quick charger and charged to 40%, which BARELY got me to my original station to leave the Leaf overnight.

The psychological state I found myself in was interesting to reflect upon. Amidst the lights and alarms, and constant pleading of the onboard computer to find a charging station, I fell into the "I really don't care if you die" mode as I pushed the car to it's very last electron to make it back.

Interesting... Some additional self reflection may be required.

The roar of my V8 sounded so nice to me at 11:00pm as I left the Nissan Leaf to charge overnight... and not on the side of the interstate.

So, do I give up on the EV? Absolutely not! I made my way south to a university 35 miles away, only to barely make it back again. Even though I charged at the university, the station was a slower charging unit and didn't do much for me. Again, I returned blissfully numb to the constant alerts blinking, beeping, and requesting to be recharged.

I will use the Nissan Leaf EV tomorrow with these bits of well earned bits of wisdom:
1) find all the charging stations along the route and use the PowerShare app.
2) take all the time in the world to do what normally would only take a couple hours.
3) pack a couple energy bars.
4) practice being numb to the alerts before you develop ulcers.
5) have fun, because it really is an excellent commuter vehicle!