This spring, after 16 years in the house, it's time for a new kitchen. Actually when we moved in in 1994 it was time for a new kitchen, but we finally got around to it. The house is 100 years old as of August this year. Anyone who has rehabbed/remodeled know what this is like. So in addition to changing jobs and my balky heart, this is going on pretty much every day from late March thru early June. For the most part I was around all the time because I was between jobs (except when I was in the CCU).
Kenny, my contractor does a great job. He sweats every detail. This is his third or fourth job for big job for me and he always tries to make seem like I'm the one making the decisions. When there's a choice of options on how to do something he'll always give you all the options. What you don't know is which one of them is correct. He knows. But he ain't sayin'. So you guess. Then you watch his facial expressions until you hit on the right response. Then he say's, "Yea, that's how I'd do it if it were my house". He fuckin' kills me with this. Here's a guy my age who does this for a living vs. me who comes to him with a project every 3-4 years and he won't just tell me how to do it. Hilarious. My wife got a taste of it when I was in the hospital. She said one morning Kenny, her and the tile guy stood around the kitchen talking about where the tiles start and which way the pattern runs. Of course Kenny already knew. She said making decisions like this while I was laying in intensive care was very surreal.
Here's some pictures. Items of note, we saved the Vitrolite off of the old walls and re-used it. Notice the old knob and tube wiring that is still in service throughout a large portion of the house and oh yea, when the plumbers tried to tie the new drains into the existing sewer lines the cast iron was all rusted out. So we tore the shit (literally) out of the basement too.
