Kitchen Ceiling

This is a dull little post, to communicate the current state of the kitchen from Portland to Boise (and, I suppose, anywhere in the world this blog is being read).

Opportunities #4 & #5: Windows and Ceiling

We actually have a working kitchen -- refrigerator, stove, sink and even a dishwasher (which is the odd black and white thing straight ahead in the central photo -- the front panel fell off a couple of years ago).  Only about 1 square foot of counter space however, so no Cordon Bleu meals will be happening soon.  

This photo collage shows the state of the ceiling. From left to right: looking west towards the front hall (e.g., the pantry/hallway), looking north towards the kitchen proper and the little half-bath, and looking up at the ceiling overhead (all photos taken standing just in front of the doorway to the dining room).  I've talked about the black serpent in the upper right corner of the middle photo -- the heating vent to the bathroom upstairs.  The cock-eyed photo on the right shows the one light fixture jerry-rigged in right now, and all three photos show the state of the original ceiling -- a mix of broken lathe and plaster, bare plaster (with water stains) and partially painted plaster.  (The wood-toned division between tan walls and green upper walls is the structural remains of the dropped ceiling -- 2x4s nailed to the wall -- It is hard, but you need to imagine that gone.) 

The wide blue tape (at the corners and along the top) on the window over the sink is roughly outlining dimensions for a new window in the north wall.  (Sorry it's not clearer, I ran out of tape and wasn't thinking of photos when I put it up.)  The existing window was installed in the 1950's remuddle of the house -- as with other windows they replaced then, it is too big for the space, and doesn't match the style of the house (although to be fair, the woodwork matched the "new" kitchen woodwork). Clearly, they were trying to add as much light as possible to the room (to the extent that the 2" frame has been cut into to make it fit the wall). But the light that comes in that window is from the north: it is cold and dim in the winter, and in the summer, it is overly bright and harsh, reflected off the neighbor's light-colored house (that blank wall you see through it in the photo). (Not to mention -- although at this angle you can't see it -- the window looks directly into the neighbor's kitchen window.)

So, we are looking for a replacement window. HomoDommi points out that the window will be one focus of attention in the room -- as you enter from the dining room it is straight ahead, and it will be the only thing on that wall (the sink will be moved -- more about that below).  So we want it to be worthy.  We are searching the antique and rebuilding supply stores for an original. Windows are pretty commonly available here, though -- not necessarily worthy ones, but they do exist -- so I have faith that we will be able to find one (less faith that we will be able to find one in a timely manner -- we may have to consider having one custom-made).

Moving the sink, and possibly adding another window

In the central photo you can also see, to the far left, the red door to the side yard.  There used to be a wall blocking that view, and there will be again (I can't find the words to describe the plane of the wall here, so you'll have to just trust me, and study the photo, if you care -- there is part of a wall still there.)  The sink/dishwasher combination (replaced with new of each) will be turned perpendicular to where it is now, backed up against that to-be-constructed wall.  We are considering installing an opaque window (non-opening) above the sink, in that still-hypothetical wall.  It would let in needed light from the side yard, and give a feeling of openness to the sink.

(A sample "tin ceiling", in white.)

The Ceiling

The default fix for this sort of situation is to throw sheetrock up, covering over any flaws in what remains of the lathe and plaster.  This is, in a way, what the 1950's remuddle did, by lowering the ceiling. And we could do that, too (at a higher elevation) although sheetrock is heavy, and smooth, and kind of boring.  What we're more interested in doing is applying an old-fashioned tin ceiling.  These are 24" lightweight metal squares that you just nail into the lathe and plaster (sort of) -- a lot easier than the sheetrock application, and frankly, it just looks cool. The ceiling tiles can be metallic, or painted.

This house was built at the tag end of the tin ceiling style, but it's not unheard of in period restorations, and -- applied with some restraint -- it can look quite splendid.  Here is a link to some sample tin ceilings. You will note that restraints have not always been applied, making (in my view) some of these rooms look oppressively top heavy.  

No decisions have been made on that, yet.  I expect, when we've got the pipes and venting out of the way, we'll buy a couple of squares and tack them up and see how it looks before committing further.

Dining Room Project: Removing the Ceiling

A couple of months ago, I wrote about tearing down the chimney in the kitchen. Let me tell you what happened next -- the next day, actually. We rented a trash container and pulled down the dining room ceiling.

Please note, for future reference, the plain ceiling, the plain cove-moulding (it might even be quarter-round, I can't remember), and the dark blue walls.

First, having just finished the dusty chimney demolition, we taped off the archway to the living room and covered the stained glass windows and the mullioned bookcase doors on the east end of the room. The ceiling removal was nowhere near as messy; it took us about 3 hours from start to finish.

The people who hung the false ceiling in the 1950's did it simply. They nailed 13' lengths of 2x4s across the ceiling, and then applied drywall to it. All we had to do was crack the drywall and pull it down, and then pry off the 2x4s without destroying the beams. The Man, being taller, did the standing-on-the-ladder pulling, and I threw the bits out the window into the container in the driveway alongside. Almost as efficient as the people who put the thing up. Not as messy as chimney demolition, the dust we kicked up is visible in this photo.

Here you see the room from the opposite angle from the preceding photos, showing the protected windows to the east. He is holding an average size piece of drywall, ready to be thrown out the open window. The cross-hatch work above him shows the dark wood box beams with the unfinished 2x4s at more frequent intervals across it.



The boards came down with little fuss, leaving relatively unharmed, lovely original old-growth fir box beams, and an original plaster over lathe ceiling. The box beams form a central open rectangle in the room. My camera can't quite pick up the beauty of the wood -- I will try to photograph them again with controlled light.



Details: If you blow-up the close-up on the right (click on it), you can see:

1) The long hole down the middle of the room in the lathe-and-plaster where the people in the 50's ripped through to install the one additional support for their crossbeams;

2) Some damage here and there to the beams, during the installation of the dropped ceiling (on the beam below the hole, for instance). Generally, however, there was little damage, and the beams didn't need more than a wipe to remove a thin coat of dust. They've spent 50 years sealed away from sunlight.

3) The imprint in the plaster of the original light fixture in the center of the room, half-obscured by our fixture. The original was round. We have a Rejuvenation House square-based fixture, a modern version of one from the same period.

4) One of the casualties to the beams that we discovered -- two missing boards from the box beams nearest the window. I wonder if they first tried to remove the beams and then decided to just install over them? Unplastered lathe is hidden under the beams.

5) If you look carefully, you can see curious striations on the walls, too: moving upwards, you see blue up to a point, a line of pink, irregular spots of brown plaster-paper, and then a wide line of gray, unpainted original plaster. From this we have worked out that the original crown molding in the room was quite deep -- about 5 inches. From books about the period, we can recreate that it was a somewhat textured cove molding with a picture rail underneath that. At some point between 1915 and 1950, the picture rail was removed and the plaster-paper painted pink (popular off and on from the 1920's through the 1950's). The crown moulding was removed only when they dropped the ceiling. We can't get anything exactly like the original (nothing that deep is available at Rejuvenation House) but we'll put in something more interesting than quarter-round.

6) If you look very carefully, you can see the hole in the wood at the intersection of the two beams shown behind the light fixture. Each intersection had the hole, and the faint imprint in the varnish of a round fixture. Peering into the narrow hole with a flashlight, you could see the original wiring (still hot, according to the electrical discharge monitor thingy) awaiting a bulb to illuminate. This is also typical of the style of the time.

Coming soon: Next steps in the Dining Room.