“So…” you might ask. “What’s it like renovating a kitchen while having three kids aged four and under, including a newborn?” 

July 30^th. That sums it up. 

July 30^th is the first day I swung a golf club this summer.

The kitchen is more or less done. The heart of the home now beats vibrantly again. Our old kitchen was due for a makeover. 

The countertop was coming apart. The cabinets were loaded with grease and losing their stain. The floor had several spots that were worn and not salvageable. And this weird little nook was, um, well you can see.

Time to get to work.

Despite a few quick projects, I more or less began the kitchen after Becca’s parents left from a visit, about a week into July. I think I would have finished 10 days earlier had Becca and I not had 3 little kids to deal with. Emilie started fussing quite a bit. And the boys, seeing change right before their eyes, fell apart frequently. "Sooo much chaaaaange!!! Waaahhh!"

 While Grandpa Bear was still here he helped remove the doors.

Me scrubbing and TSPing the doors. Seems like forever since I did this.

 

One morning Joseph went off to swimming lessons. Hehehe, it was John Paul and my time to smash some stuff!

More work.

 At two different points I kicked Becca and the kids out. To paint and to do flooring. They went to Grandma and Grandpa’s house in Nipawin. It was amazing how much work I could accomplish without having to run and wipe a poop, pick up a crying baby, or put tools away so that little kids wouldn’t play with them.

 

Me in the basement. It's funny how renovating one room can disrupt the entire house. The basement was a mess. The office was a mess. The kitchen, of course, was a mess. At one point we had appliances and a table in our living room. The bathroom seldom got cleaned. The outside patio still has a table saw on it... The only room untouched was the basement bathroom.

It turns out Joseph's favourite thing in the world to do is stain wood. He wouldn't stop talking about how much he loved it.

 

Slowly some progress. At this point I kicked the family out to do the flooring. Vinyl tile flooring. Holy moly what a lot of knee-breaking work. It took about 30 hours to complete (including the grouting). But with the kids gone I was able to complete it in less than two days.

One last thing before the reveal. You need the right tools for the job. One benefit of doing a major reno every summer is that I slowly get to build up my tool collection. Here is my Makita line of tools. 

They are amazing. We needed an air compressor. Becca let me get the nail gun that goes with it. I love it! The unsung hero of the reno was actually the palm sander. Though all of my tools were put to good use.

Enough of this. Time for the reveal....

THE REVEAL:

You like? That's what a million dollar kitchen apparently looks like. Now for an updated kitchen at around 1/250th that price...

Subway tile backsplash. Never goes out of style. Oh, and new GFCI outlets. Cause in 1963 they didn't have much for code. Not that anyone's been electrocuted here because of it. At least as far as I know.

 
Joseph also loves tiling. I was working away and he asked if he could do some. I put a bit of adhesive on some wood and left him to it. Pretty good! I wouldn't mind hanging this on the wall. Would you like one too? That'll be $50! Gotta pay for the reno somehow.




A decorative pot rack. Made from an old iron piece that a farmer friend had. Not quite a farmhouse kitchen, but we don't mind showcasing some farm roots.

A custom pantry. Mainly with some MDF, laminated pine, paint and hardware. We saved a bunch of $ with this. Becca says to tell you that it looks way better in real life. Much better than what was there.





Our floor. Oh my. The best part is, the floor is actually disgustingly filthy at the moment, and you can't tell!



New water jug. The boys are having a blast filling up cups. Hey, whatever gets them to drink more water. 

Final Thoughts

- Don't like your kitchen? Buy some TSP cleaning product and scrub away. You'd almost swear we had new appliances.

- As mentioned earlier, the boys were a mess for a good chunk of this reno. Yesterday Becca was sick and I simply decided to not work on anything. When they clued in that I was just going to hang out with them it was if a switch went off.  From Evil to Good.

- We're not done yet. I need to build a little spice rack. And a little pull out island to go next to the stove. And buy some items such as a new toaster. And actually tile the entrance (and paint it) since I have some left over tile anyway (and the entrance looks yucky).

- My favourite part? Besides that it is more or less done? Definitely that it's opened up. That one cabinet is gone. Becca and I can't get over that we can cook food and still talk with the people at the table. And it feels like we have way more counter space too, now that we don't have to duck our heads under a cabinet.

All in all, the kitchen is more or less done. Thank you Saint Joseph.

Approved by the chef. And her soon to be helper.

Approved by the eaters too.

Now to go golfing...

Sizing Up Tiny Houses

Tiny houses are all the rage. You're either nodding your head in agreement or thinking: "what the heck is a tiny house... why would that be all the rage?" I hear you. Tiny house shows are all over TV now too. Becca is fascinated with them. I am fascinated as to why people are fascinated by them.

For starters, Tiny homes, often as little as 140 sq. feet, are fancy little homes, usually built on trailers for mobility, often placed off the grid, which can be built for anywhere from $5000 to $100,000.

Exterior

Interior

Sold yet? But wait, you ponder, why not just buy a camper? I mean look at what you can buy now!

This just doesn't have the same appeal. If I said: "I live in a camper." People would be like: "Why? Did your house burn down? Did you get cleared out in a messy divorce? Do you get kicked out of towns frequently? Do you camp for a living?" But if I say: "I live in a tiny house." People would be like: "Dude, that is so hip of you. You are so eco-friendly. You must be a caring person. The tiny house movement will change America, if Trump doesn't get to it first. And even then, he'd still respect you."

And why not a trailer? Trailers are easy to come by. They can be dirt cheap. They are small, and possibly mobile. Oh but mention a trailer to people and they probably think of this:

No, that won't work. A tiny house is the way to go. Lets look at some of the positives and negatives.

Spiritual

Let's be honest, part of the tiny house life is appealing. From a spiritual perspective I am reminded of a monastic cell. A life lived in simplicity and solely for God. In this sense, a tiny house could be advantageous. Your own little cell. A place of prayer, penance, and poverty of spirit. You just need a space big enough to whip yourself and to hang a hair shirt or two. Then you are living the monastic dream. However, I have yet to see, at least on TV, a tiny house built for religious reasons (though some have been adamant to include yoga areas or zen designs... whatever. I don't see people rushing to park their tiny house next to a Catholic Church either, with the house parked in such a way that you can see the tabernacle through the loft bedroom window, St. Andre style. Nope. Long story short, you don't need a tiny house to live a holy life. A monastery cell, house in the country, or even an apartment in the city would work just fine.

St. Jerome, praying in cell

I'm not sure whose skull that is

Simple

What is good about the tiny house movement is that it requires people to discard most of their earthly possessions. 140 sq. feet is shockingly small. Think about your living room. Now think of that as your house. Where do you live, let alone put all your stuff? People in tiny homes are forced to live simple. This, to its credit, is one of the great draws of tiny house living. Some people do actually see the goodness in a detachment to possessions. I'd be chucking most of my stuff. Weights, drums, organ, hockey equipment, wife... Just kidding. I'd keep the weights.

I'm kidding ok!

Outside

A necessity of tiny house living is loving the outdoors. Most tiny homes we see on TV are built in the Colorado/Oregon/Washington regions. These are beautiful places and certainly do not have winters as bitterly cold as Saskatchewan. They are also places commonly associated with hipsters and the like, but let's not go there. Outdoors and tiny houses are like peanut butter and jelly, or Mass and Latin. You need outdoor living space. A nice yard. A deck. Trees. I feel like singing the Canticle of the Sun right now.

Kids

It certainly is possible to live in a small space with many children. Think of our ancestors. Often a two room house would be filled with a shocking amount of children (double digits easily). I'm a realist though. What is portrayed on TV is that a large majority of tiny house people have no children. Often there is a cat or dog, and they spend great care in designing out of the way litter boxes, or nooks for Spot to sleep. Rarely are there kids, or mentions of ever having kids. To the tiny house movement kids are not entirely incompatible. However, the impression is certainly given that one must be quirky (aka crazy) to have kids and a tiny house. And in a sense they are. 

Eco-Friendly

Everyone knows my love for the environment. For those neighbours who saw me the other day chasing that jackrabbit out of my yard with a shovel, it was all a misunderstanding. And those trees I cut down back there... they were sick and, well, if you can now kill sick people in Canada, I certainly can kill sick trees. Or have trees replaced humans in dignity now? But seriously, tiny houses are eco-friendly. A smaller house means less heating, electricity, and even water. Yet this does not mean it is always eco friendly. Limited fridge space would mean fewer left-overs stored, and thus more cooking. There would be fewer plants in the house. Even the diesel needed to haul your house around would be significant. Ultimately, in terms of tiny houses being eco-friendly: Who cares.


Custom

Small spaces means customization. Custom bed. Custom couch. Custom ladder. Custom everything. And you can go for high end products without breaking the bank because, well, you don't need much of anything.

Cute

I asked Becca what she liked about tiny houses. Two things: 1) Simplicity. 2) "I just think they're really cute."

Mobility

What we often hear from people describing why they chose a tiny house is the mobility it provides. Not having to put down roots. To go where you want. To not be tied down. And it is at this point where I find my aversion to tiny houses.


Commit Already

If you wanted to build a house in the middle of nowhere and raise chickens and write poetry, good. If you wanted to live on the 78th story in a New York City high rise while working on Wall Street, good. If you wanted to live on 97th St. in Tisdale, SK while working one block away at an elementary school, you might be crazy, but good. These situations are composed of living in a real place, with a real purpose, with the potential for a real community. You would be rooted. Tiny houses, particularly the mobile variety, breed independence in such a way that fears commitment. The people who are afraid of living in a house not on wheels are afraid of becoming part of a community and culture. So they have created their own community and culture, one that seeks to avoid unwanted permanence, purpose, even children. Ultimately the question that must be asked to those wishing to pursue a tiny house is: Are you living only for yourself?

By all means, build a tiny house if you wish. Just know that your own little world you create with it doesn't make you the master of it. The simple life is also the committed life.

Think bigger than yourself.

A Chip Off the Old Block

Joseph and I tackled a nice little project this past Saturday. The goal was to redo parts of our patio. You see, I took a big risk when I repurposed all our concrete and put it into patio form. I didn't know what I was doing, or how it would look. But in the end the risk was well worth it, and we love it. However, in order to fill in the concrete blocks I didn't have the proper paving sand. You see, in Tisdale you can't even buy oranges half the time, let alone paving sand. So I made a mix of normal sand and cement. It seemed to work great. But a long and cold winter put some wear and tear into it. And so, Joseph and I set out to chip away all the filler and then refill it.

These pictures are 100% not staged. I kid you not, Joseph actually helped me to literally chip away at this project. We listened to music, talked, and worked for over three hours. He even helped me re-level some of the blocks. What a difference a year makes! You might recall me complaining last year how he would not only get in my way, but undo work of mine. Plant grass? Joseph would walk all over it. Paint a wall? Joseph would damage it with his hammer in order to "help". You get the idea. Not anymore, or at least not yet. My boy was a great help.

But lo and behold, I have another little boy who has taken over for last year's Joseph. John Paul. John Paul the Wrecker. John Paul the Destructanator. He came out with us for the first 30 minutes. It was so awful I eventually brought him to Becca (who was inside making bread) and muttered something about we can buy bread, but we can't buy a patio, or something ridiculous like that. In short, John Paul was, dare I say, worse than Joseph last year. And he's only one. ONE! Did I mention he just started walking only two weeks ago? He still has at least one more summer of being like this.

So thankfully Becca took him away to the new play structure at the school. All was good.

  Afterwards he had a nap, which allowed Joseph and I to finish our task.

In the end, I wonder sometimes... if I had a little girl would she be like this? Or maybe she would simply go off and play dolls. Perhaps she might even set up a little tea party and treat me to it for a little coffee break? I can only imagine. Or better yet... maybe she would follow Becca around endlessly and bother her instead! *evil grin*

Whatever the case, I'll gladly take my boys, any day. Good work, workerman Joseph.

Home Home Home

When I was at OLSWA as a student we geekishly created and used a system for talking about "home." When talking about our student residences we used the word "home." Example: I'm going home to eat a pound of bacon that I bought on sale, I'll see you at supper in an hour." When talking about our home where we came from we used the term "home home." Example: "I'm going home home this weekend to get my laundry done for me and to eat bacon and cheese."

Yet there was another home we added. Being well versed in Aristotilean influenced Thomism, we reverently spoke about our true home. Our final destination. Thus we stated the thrice holy: "home home home," when speaking about heaven. Example: "I'll bet there is all you can have bacon, cheese, and chocolate milk for those who go to home home home."

I was thinking about this on the weekend. You see, this past weekend was, for me, the official start to my summer projects. I spent time putting in a new outdoor tap, covering an electrical outlet, patching holes on an overhead shade structure, and moving rock while preparing our garden. It felt good. I honestly didn't want to come to work on Tuesday *gasp*. And throughout the work Becca and I discussed a potential new project: a kitchen renovation. While the idea is barely on my radar at the moment (I have more than enough to keep me busy this summer), Becca is a little more enthusiastic towards such a reno this summer. So she can look into things, for now.

But it's amazing to me to see how we can so quickly get consumed into thoughts about our home. Everything from colours to concrete, flooring to fixtures, quickly becomes a topic to thoroughly discuss. Becca and I are further the type that any talk about hardware on a door quickly balloons into talk about colour of cabinets and walls, to entire house colours, to when to sell the place, to where to live, to eventually discussing our entire life plan, retirement, and even whether or not ISIS will come after us before then. Eventually I find myself lying huddled on the ground sobbing and moaning: "it's just a paint colour..."

In the end, though, I think we lose track a bit. Our entire life plan is not around our home, or home home. It should be around the thrice holy home, heaven. Preparation on a home is important, especially when looking at eventually selling in a very difficult and unforgiving Tisdale real estate market. But it's not heaven. Nor is it anymore than a blink of the eye in comparison to heaven. Jesus won't care about the quality of our flooring, but he will care how I treated my sons as they got in my way "to help" as I laboured at putting that flooring in. He might not care about how I spent time sorting through mixed up rocks (red versus blue), but at whether or not I offered that simple labour up. And that amazing centre piece photo collection on the wall, that was planned and produced with attention to every detail, means nothing next to the crucifix up on the wall next to it. The home is but a sign of our heavenly home. A mere shadow. May our house be called a house of prayer. In the end, the work I do on our home really should be contributing towards the heavenly home, the only that matters.

May Our Lord say to us all some day: "Welcome Home Home Home, my faithful servant"

It's All Mental: Fixing a House

So you might've heard that I did a little bit of work on our house this summer. As you look through some of these pictures I'm sure you'll be thinking "why the heck did they buy this house? Suckers." Now there are these stupid shows on T.V. where people get their yard "crashed." In two days, with all the fancy machines and a crew of 20 people, yards are transformed into palace gardens. Unfortunately if you take one person then the two days stretches into several weeks. Nevertheless, with a bit of sweat and blood, our yard crashers episode is complete (for the summer anyway). 

The old. Sigh. Our lovely "non-professional workmanship" house.

A beautiful slope really. The only problem is that it went the wrong direction. Hard to believe the first thing I did on the house was install a new sump pump for the basement.

Cracks. Unpatched energy foam.

Our lovely patio.

Our electrical. Literally down to the last wire.

The new:

Snipped wires. New siding.

Sloped the other way! Thanks Grandpa!

Proper slope, repaired tap and patched energy foam.

3ft. Mast. They don't come cheap. Obviously I didn't do this myself.

The sandbox system.

John Paul approved.

The patio. Yes, that's re-used concrete.

Discounted deck chairs from co-op (good deal).

$20 glass table and $16 bamboo rug from JYSK (Just Your Stupid Kids?)

Re-purposed concrete bench (not the top slab though).

Little inukshuk out of, you guessed it, repurposed concrete. Note the 250lb slab slapped into the ground (the dump charges per weight).

Left over supplies are stored in our "Workerman Area."

New grass growing in. Yay! I never thought I could grow grass! The other side of the yard is coming in way slower (as in not really at all).

Joseph is happy to have his yard back! Becca is waiting to find some nice hanging planters. 

A Few Things I've Learned:

1) It's all mental. The hardest part about fixing a house is the mental side. For instance, to spend two grueling hours to take out one square foot of concrete can lead you to despair. It's hard to be mentally tough in those moments. Day after day. Work at the little things.

2) Be smart, but be fast. I spent one of the first mornings humming and hawing over a stubborn bathroom tap. Afterwards there was no more of that. You can waste a lot of time over a project. Make a plan, and get the heck to work. Anyway, we're still at it with our house. More pics will come at a later date.

3) Seeing this everyday makes it all worth it: