inspiration

For the last couple years, I've been bookmarking photos of kitchens I like, looking for inspiration. Here's a sampling of stuff I've bookmarked, to give a sense of what I'm going for:
from my Houzz ideabook -- this is stuff I've collected in the last two months, mostly open shelves, sliding barn doors, walk-in pantries, etc.

liberrian's ideas

Houzz- Kitchen Remodel, Bathroom Remodel and More»

Browse Bedroom Products on Houzz- For Example:

Bedskirts · Quilts · Shams · Bedroom Benches · Beds · Dressers Chests And Bedroom Armoires · Nightstands And Bedside Tables · Sofa Beds ·

Then there's my delicious.com kitchen bookmarks, going back much further in this process--lots of farmhouse kitchens, unfitted kitchens, storage solutions, kitchen island/tables. (sorry, no fancy widget for it)

And also my new favorite, Pinterest (though much of this is imported from delicious, so there are plenty of repeats.) Here's a screen shot from tonight, but check the link above and it may look a little different...

Floor plans

In the photos of the last post, it was probably difficult to figure out how they all fit together. Here's a floor plan of the kitchen before we started the remodel:

As you can see, the main cooking area formed a channel, making it difficult for more than one person to cook at the same time and hiding the cook behind this big wall of cabinetry. While there are times I do want to hide in the kitchen, unfortunately, the kids could always find me there.
Our main goals in the resign: to make a more aesthetic kitchen (we suspect the kitchen was last redone in 1950-something) (and not by some mid-century modern design genius) that allows for a more fluid and flexible space. To be more functional for the way we cook in this century, while subtly evoking the time period when the house was built.

We need more "before" photos

And here we are. I took these last spring. I clearly didn't clean up and de-clutter, which is exactly how to make the "after" photos look even better. If only I'd thought to dimly light them and somehow make the cabinets look fat and dumpy, with bags under their eyes.

Let's start back in the pantry:

The cabinets all have mismatched hardware, doors that either don't close or get stuck, and too-short shelves inside. There's a counter that I had covered with oilcloth to hide the partially peeled-off vinyl tiles. It was largely a dumping ground, as clearly illustrated above.

And two more views of the pantry:

The fridge is back here because it doesn't fit anywhere else. It's not the most convenient location. The Hoosier Cabinet, which we bought a year ago, is hiding back here with no proper place to display its awesomeness.

Take a few steps back from the pantry, and you're in the main galley part of the kitchen, or as I like to call it, the main thoroughfare for racing kids. (This channel through the kitchen does form part of a big loop in the house, which is fun for kids but not so much for the cooks.)

The stove is fine and functional, with a vent that sounds like a jet engine (but does have a cool copper hood). The big problem here is that the peninsula of the stove and cabinetry cuts off the flow (and light) of the kitchen, which you can see illustrated a bit more clearly here:



And then there's that huge, ugly (well I think it's ugly. There isn't consensus on that) wood stove there with the garden gate built around it. That's not going anywhere for a while, but its footprint and intense heat output were major considerations when we began to rethink the space.

I will follow up with a "before" floor plan.

Overhauling the kitchen

When we bought our house in 2009, we knew that we'd remodel the kitchen at some point. Our hopes were that it would be soon, but our expectations were low. But all of a sudden, this fall, the time (and money) presented itself, and we dove in.

I started out by ramping up my looking-at-blogs-and-photos-of-kitchens-I-like habit. For a while, I'd been slowly amassing ideas and bookmark lists of images of nice kitchens. I knew I wanted a kitchen that reflected our house's' 19th century New England roots but balanced that aesthetic with practicality and convenience--to make a highly functional kitchen with an authentic, antique look.

At some point, I latched onto the idea of the unfitted kitchen (sometimes called a free-standing kitchen), which is a more 19th century way of furnishing a kitchen. Basically, it's an eclectic style that relies more (or entirely) on free-standing kitchen furniture in lieu of built-in cabinetry. Its historical look appealed to me, but so did the idea of creating a kitchen that could potentially be reorganized at a later date without leaving holes in the walls and floors. It also occurred to me that an unfitted kitchen can be built over time--it doesn't have to be an all-at-once kind of project.

It's now a couple months later, and we're up to our knees (chest? neck?) in this redesign project. Stay tuned for more about this process. In the mean time, here is an image of our starting point, a 1950's era kitchen with a crowded layout:

Moon Man!

Moon Man!, a photo by liberrian on Flickr.

One of Jasper's favorite books is Tomi Ungerer's Moon Man. For his birthday I made him a Moon Man. Here is is! It took a little trial-and-error to get the shape right (or at least not laughable), but it was a success--Jasper immediately knew who it was and has slept with it every night ever since.

garden frolic

garden frolic, a photo by liberrian on Flickr.

Alma got a new dress, right before Easter. The top is a Gymboree t-shirt, attached to a patchwork twirl skirt made of 6" squares cut from a lovely fabric bundle from Fabricworm. I've made a few dresses for Alma of this type over the years, originally based on a pattern from IndieTutes back in 2007.

Fingerless Mittens

I done knit up a pair fingerless mittens, a gift for my husband Tom:

(note: above model is not Tom. 'Tis me. He was sleeping during the photo session.)
I have a similar pair myself, and I like how they let me do a lot more than I can usually do with gloves on. And now that I have joined the ranks of the smartphoners, it's quite handy to be able to operate my phone while still keeping relatively warm.
The design is a meld of the mittens pattern in Ann Budd's The Knitter's Handy Book of Patterns, my fingerless mittens (store bought), and a little improvisation. They have some cables on the back of the hand, stockinette stitch under the fingers, and 2x2 ribbing around the wrist.
Plus they match the hat I made him before Christmas: