Hell Kitchen: Part Three

First things first. I have been breaking this post into parts for ease of reading and writing, not because I am attempting to build anticipation. I just had to clarify that because, based on some of your feedback, I'm afraid you are all going to be really disappointed when you see how not different the kitchen looks. There really isn't much I can do with it until I have the resources to turn it into this:

I'm working on it.

But back to the current kitch sitch. Once I'd evicted the wallpaper chefs, removed and repainted the cabinet, and given the surfaces a thorough cleaning, it was time to get painting!

Just kidding. During the second consecutive weekend of the kitchen project, on the morning of what I had nominated as "Seriously Actually Painting Day," I started out, as usual, by spackling. As I zeroed in on a hole left behind by one of the shelf's support screws, I noticed the paint was chipping a bit. So I picked off a tiny little chip. Then it gave way to a little bit more. Then more. Then this happened.

Now, of course, I was going to need to get rid of all the paint below the chair rail. I soon discovered that, in fact, all of the pieces that were going to come right off had already come right off; what remained would give me a six-hour long chipping and scraping ordeal. It all concluded with me doing something I never had in the plans: using my eyebrow tweezers to remove paint chips from the tiles along the bottom.

Once THAT was over with, it was the night of Seriously Actually Painting Day. With what little energy I had left, I started repainting the ceiling.

If you'd asked me what color the ceiling was, I would've told you off-white. But as I began rolling on the new white paint, and saw it contrasted against the old, I'm thinking it was probably named something like... Sewer Fog?

Then, the next day, it was time to paint the walls. And now for the moment I never intended for you all to be waiting for: the color reveal!

White Clay!

 

Womp womp.

Right now you're probably saying, "Your last three projects have just been painting things white. I thought you were supposed to be creative."

I know. But in my defense, this time the paint isn't White. It's White Clay. Which is like white but with...clay. It's actually the same color as our living room (why am I telling you this I'm just making it worse), because I wanted to keep a flow going from room to room.

More importantly, this house just won't support crazy color schemes. I've always believed that a bold color choice is the backbone of any room revamp. See? See? See? But the main living area-- the living room, ModLodge, and kitchen-- have so much woodwork that I need to keep the paint colors clean or I run the risk of the whole space looking dated. You believe me, right?

Speaking of woodwork, the one portion of the kitchen job that gave me pause was the chair rail. It had either been sanded down or all of the varnish had worn off. Originally, my plan was to apply a fresh coat of stain to fix it up.

But the more time I spent looking at it, and I got a lot of face time during all the paint chipping, the more I realized it may have been a lost cause. It looked so worn out and dirty, and it had a few different colors of paint splattered in various places. And the fixture only exists in this one corner. Really, the best course of action would be to cover it all up.

No regrets.

The cabinet is a different story. I don't know what to do about it. As soon as I slid it back into place my reaction was, "No."

It'll have to stay there until I figure out a replacement. It's definitely better than red.

All in all, I can't say that the kitchen is noticeably different to the occasional visitor. I didn't even bother trying to take pictures from other angles because it doesn't look like anything. But it's bright, clean, and rid of the grime and curious decorating choices we inherited.

Before

After

*By the way, I noticed in the "before," there is an empty laundry basket on the dining room table in the background and a few shirts draped over a chair. And in the "after" there is an overflowing basket of laundry to be folded. Let this serve as proof that I am somehow always always doing laundry.