South Stuy Reno

We can’t do very much else until we get the first round of drawings from our newly hired architect, so we are tackling the ornate wooden columns in what will one day be our guestroom/office.

An ambitious project indeed, but weghaddado wha weghaddado.

We are currently using Citrus Strip on the column. We have found that the trick is to paint on the thickest coating of the stuff as possible, wrap the thing with plastic wrap to keep it from drying out, and let it do its work over a 24- to 36-hour period. We then get to scraping using sharp pull scrapers (we bought them through the Silent Paint Stripper site). If the paint doesn’t come off, we no longer fight it or curse at it like we did when we first began learning how to strip–we just throw on another coat.

Look at all these lovely colors–sort of psychedelic, man

We needed to repeat the process 3 times for this result.

We have no idea what kind of wood this is or why some of it is light and some dark–if anyone has some insight, let us know. We plan on staining this woodwork at some point in the future so if anyone would like to post some pointers, we would appreciate it.

A century plus of use and abuse have taken there toll on a number of our grand ole doors–there have been locks and door handles and hinges and bars and hooks and tacts (T’s favorite) that have been put on and taken off that a couple of the doors look like some monster alien termites have had their way with them (we don’t have termites–I am just trying to give you an image here). Anyway, the point being that some of these doors will not be savage-able–at least not by us (don’t worry-we aren’t going to throw them away–we will either keep them in the basement or drop them at Eddie’s).

One of the quirky things about this house is that no single door in the entire house is exactly the same in any dimension so even though we plan on closing up some doorways we can’t necessary re-purpose those doors to another portal. Which brought us to Eddie’s Salvage–where we have spent hours on end measuring every door in the place (and if you have been to Eddie’s you know there are a helluva lot of doors). We did find one door at Eddie’s that was pretty close to the dimensions we needed for the garden floor entrance and now fits perfectly thanks to T’s handy new electric planer.

We have been stripping this ole door on and off since December-outside when weather permits (yes it has been cold but with the chimnea going, winter gear on, resperators, goggles and 2 heat guns going–we have managed not to freeze to death) and more recently inside with chemicals–(the details work lends itself better to the chemical method)

Outside with the heat gun

The good news is we have discovered a use for our overpriced silent paint remover–it takes off a couple of layers of paint on the flat large surfaces and makes it faster to use the more traditional heat gun to take off the rest.

Inside with chemicals

Detail

Unfortunately-I do not have any before pics of this door but it was the typical, coated with more than enough paint to obliterate any detail.

We plan on painting it the same color as the Parlor entry doors–a deep dark red.

Hope to have more pics soon.

We all know there are a number of “fucktards” who frequent the Brownstoner–who are more likely than not logged in anonymously as “guest” and who take advantage of their anonymity to be generally obnoxious. I, along with my fellow bloggers and forum posters, generally ignore them but every once in a while they bring something up that merits a response or perhaps some clarification. In this case, the recent flurry of responses to a long posting laying out the current state of the duplex in which T and I are living in our brownstone has made me realize that very few of our readers know who the hell we are, and that I need to re-evaluate why I even write this blog.

I was first inspired to write after months of reading all the other blogs and realizing that our particular situation was not represented. We are regular people, who prior to this undertaking did not have any experience or expertise in renovating or restoring brownstones. But we loved them and spent many a day walking the streets of Brownstone Brooklyn dreaming of having one of our own. Like many many many other brownstone lovers these days, we were priced out of Park Slope and Fort Greene, so our searching led us to the streets of Clinton Hill, Bed Stuy, and Crown Heights until we found the place you have been reading about.

We do not have a ton of money but we have good white-collar jobs and manage to earn, eat, pay the mortgage, and even save a little. That said, we aren’t able to hire an army of contractors and get all the work done all at once while living at the Four Seasons during renovations. And here is the reality check for all the naysayers claiming we bitch too much, know too little, should’ve known about or expected everything we’ve encountered, and otherwise speak from a height of knowledge and wisdom that they apparently have occupied since birth, when they strode through the waves like Venus from the shell, armed with hammer and T-square, architectural renderings, and a rolodex full of excellent and honest contractors. The reality is that though we came into this with no background in building or renovating and while we’ve struggled and haven’t always known the best practice or next step of each moment of our renovation, and while it would’ve been easier and more comfortable to try and get others to do everything and to live elsewhere while the work was being done, that’s not why we bought the house and not what we were ever interested in doing in the first place. I wouldn’t say we like living in these conditions but we wouldn’t live anywhere else during this undertaking–even if we could afford it. When we go away for a weekend, we are always desperate to get back at the end of it. It’s a sickness to be sure–but one I’d assume that most of you are afflicted with too. Owning and renovating an old house is by definition a love-hate relationship. If you live on-site and are doing as much of the work yourself as possible and love every moment of it, you either enjoy a good bondage and spanking session every now and again or know just the person to supply you with some very nice drugs–or both.

This blog was supposed to be a venue for me to VENT and to be part of a COMMUNITY. I thought perhaps the blog would get other people in like situations to post not only about their brilliant strategies and success stories, but also about planning that wasn’t so successful and difficulties that arose and how they overcame problems–expected or not. And in turn, I thought our stories would be encouraging to others, since in spite of our own difficulties, unpleasant surprises, and just-plain-hardship, we continue to make what we feel are ultimately good decisions that have led to real progress and which have sustained our love for this house and our desire to continue with it until done. I thought that the community would share their knowledge and resources with us. I didn’t think the hardships and frustrations that I share here would be interpreted as negative–they are all stories of powering on and through. We did not go into this renovation thinking we would do most of the work ourselves but those are the cards we have been dealt and we are playing them. I’m reminded of a something T says about his trouble-making teenage years: “I almost never set a ‘good example’ for my brother and sister growing up, but I sure as hell showed them what NOT to do.”

Real renovation is not “Flip That House” or “Trading Spaces” or whatever personality shows are on HGTV. Real renovation is about spending 30 hours every weekend stripping wood until your hands are so raw, red, and swollen that you can barely move them–only to discover that the beautiful wood you’re trying to uncover and restore is still not visible.

Real renovation is about installing a vanity and sink and the floor beneath it falling through to the room below. A renovation of this size means there are times when you’re not sure what to do first or next, where to spend your resources, how best to utilize limited time.

I never expected it would be easy but I also didn’t expect it to be this hard. Sharing this with others is not whining and it doesn’t make me a wimp. It makes me honest. Everyone who has ever done any renovating knows that there are days when the end seems very far away and the gameplan seems insufficient.

I have a smart-ass, cynical, and sometimes self-deprecating sense of humor. It’s clear that many readers don’t get that. When I say I am “chipping paint off the door like chocolate” or that our renovation pillow has had all the feathers beat out of it, I do not mean those things literally. I AM BEING FUNNY–maybe not ha-ha funny or even belly-chuckle funny, but hopefully “heh, goddamn” funny. Laugh (it relieves stress); be nice; OR

I’ll have to sick my cat on ya………………..

And finally, I know I talk about a taboo subject in my blog, and evidently it scares folks and makes them uncomfortable. I think some of you need to get over it because it’s an everyday reality. Renovation involves money. You need to buy materials. You need to pay for labor and expertise. You need to pay for hospital bills and the shrink (this is meant to be funny: laugh). You need to forecast and re-forecast. I talk about money because someone needs to. I am the money manager on the project and I count the money–over and over and over. The more I have the more I can do. Sometimes I want to do more with less. Often, I spend more than I want to. It seems sometimes you can spend a lot and get less than you expected in return. And unfortunately, sometimes you spend and get nothing. Those are not good days. I am sure I am not the only one who uses money (but for those of you who don’t use or need it, money is a medium of exchange; US currency is green and rectangular; it has pictures of dead presidents on it (well, except for the Benjamins, and everybody knows it’s all about the Benjamins). I am sure I am not the only one who has used currency in the renovation of a house. And if I am and the rest of you are out there bartering in a tax-free world, PLEASE let me join your club (though I’d rather not join one called “The Fucktards”), I’ll pay you (again, this…is meant…to be…funny).

Ultimately, if you don’t like my posts, don’t read them. No one is forcing anyone here. And don’t waste my time, your time, and everyone else’s time whining about me when I could be wasting my own time working on my house or reading the advice of the otherwise helpful and friendly members of the Brownstoner community instead of responding to jerks.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZOjwXBz3Tk&feature=related (this is my current reno theme song)

Or just overwhelmed, not so self assured.

So we finished the second apartment and although we are thankful we made it through and are happy with the results, and oh-so-glad it’s rented, we’re spent, stalled out a couple weeks from finishing the last apt.

We haven’t said much about our living quarters–the garden and parlor floors–largely because we’ve been living in just a bedroom, bathroom, and what used to be a kitchen, but is now where we keep our desk and computer.

Our working bathroom:

Our 2 non-functional kitchens (no stoves, working water, 1 frig; T has been grilling almost everyday for the last 5 months):

The floor in the office/kitchen:

Other than pulling up all the nasty carpet and staples, taking out the drop ceiling in the front parlor, stripping the bannister and attempting to strip one of the bay windows, and getting a false start with the painting, we haven’t done much with our space, though we’ve tried to make at least the bedroom comfortable:

As those who have been reading along know, our financial position (thanks in part to our first 4 contractors spending a lot of their time and our money making not very much progress) forced us to spend all of our own time and energy on getting the rentals renovated. The two one-bedroom rentals have been largely cosmetic work; since we blew out the closet walls in order to create a kitchen alcove for each, we have not needed to reconfigure anything. It’s now a matter of finishing the details, replacing what needs replacing, making what’s there better.

Our area–on the other hand–needs LOADS of work. There is the layout that does not quite work for us. We tried to think of our duplex in terms of the current floor plan, but that just didn’t suit our needs, so now we have more of a reconstruction than a renovation on our hands. Our 2 bathrooms are in the middle of each floor, with large rooms before and after and a hall connecting all three. The garden-level back room is the lovely green kitchen seen above and the smaller kitchen, which is going to become a bathroom and is where I am sitting while writing this, is in on the parlor floor, in the back, connected to a large room which will be the library, but which is now where we keep our bed). The current parlor-floor bathroom is going to be blown out to create the kitchen, along with the walls separating the bathroom from the parlor and the walls separating the whole area from the stairs to the garden level, creating an open floor plan. The parlor itself has no ceiling, the original plaster one having been pulled down at some unknown point in the past and the whole covered with a drop-down, which our first contractor tore out and carted off.

We plan to put up a tin ceiling at some unknown point in the future. The downstairs master bath needs to be gutted and rebuilt.

The green kitchen, which will become the master bedroom, has a badly sagging oak floor that needs lots of repair work. There is cracked plaster on the walls and ceilings throughout. The front room on the garden level is largely fine as is, needs some light electrical work, but will make a great office/guest room. It has wainscoting and beautiful woodwork throughout. The problem is that the whole room is full of amazing wood and all of it is under probably 100 years of paint.

You can take a hammer and crack off pieces, like the chocolate coating on an icecream bar, without damaging the wood in the slightest, but damn sure releasing all kinds of neato lead dust. We won’t be happy with the room until we restore at least some of its wood. But we tried to strip the bay area and that little bit of progress was more demoralizing than anything else.

(The banisters look fantastic, though, and we’re almost done with the smaller newel post on the garden level.)

We need all kinds of electrical work done (on top of the several thousands of dollars of work we’ve already had done to upgrade the electrical service and to switch everything over from fuses–we had 40 amps service until just recently–and to do wiring on the third and fourth floors. We’re planning on gutting one bathroom, moving the other, along with both kitchens (well, getting rid of one kitchen, moving the other), so we obviously need loads of plumbing work done (again, on top of the several thousands of dollars…). We’d like a cooling system of some sort installed. Basically, the works.

Which brings us back to the Beatles. We need help–someone but not just anyone. We’re feeling pretty scorched lately and don’t want to invite another scoundrel into our house. I know we need an architect with vision, creativity, and experience with these old houses to draw up plans, file them with the city, and to give us some guidance and support. But it needs to be someone who doesn’t work on a percentage of the overall cost because we plan on hiring a building contractor separately and working with our current electrician and plumber. And there’s still a lot we can and plan to do ourselves. Does such a person exist?

We aren’t sure if we need a GC; we prefer to hire a kitchen/bath guy(s) who can do everything if needed, but we need to keep our jobs, so we might be forced to get one. Regardless, we’d love to get some recommendations for people who do kitchens and baths.

The one thing we know for sure is that we need some help and good advice. We’ve exhausted our pool of names and numbers. Please send info, contact numbers, actual people ready to work (genius craftsmen who work for next to nothing are preferred), money, building materials, just kidding (kind of). As of now, we plan on finishing up the third apt, moving into that, getting a HELOC loan to cover all of this, try and find a kind of architect we’re sure doesn’t exist, hire some good builders/contractors, finish our duplex ASAP, and maybe start living again.

As reported in my last post–we have had some set backs. It also didn’t help much that our handyman disappeared to San Diego to try and cash in on the contracting bonanza resulting from the wildfires.

But as a result– T and I have done even more of the work ourselves and thus, have saved even more cashola (which is a good thing because we don’t have much left). In short order: we built and installed the Ikea cabinets, added the kitchen island support post that we built from two stair posts (to bring some of the house detail into the apt), installed, sanded and polyed the butcher block counters and painted the sideboard,

We also installed the shower conversion kit for the clawfoot tub, recoated the tub with epoxy/porcelain paint, did a lot of sanding, did a lot of patching, installed new locks, completed the closet, and planed the doors.

Once it was finished *and we sat back with a couple beers to admire the work, we noticed one last detail we’d missed before: the sunset views from the apt’s bay windows.

**Note-if this entry makes any of this sound easy or as if we worked efficiently or happily-I apologize for the deceit–this work was a result of working every evening from 7-until midnight and every weekend from 11 a.m. until we could no longer be trusted with hammers, chemicals, or drills. This is what it looked like before:

http://www.brownstoner.com/mte/mt-tb.cgi/2644

http://www.brownstoner.com/mte/mt-tb.cgi/2644

So here were the floors BEFORE:

As you can see our cat was pretty bummed out about them. They were down right dingy.

Then the folks at Summit arrived and BEHOLD:

a ray of light in an otherwise very dark tunnel

The first time I saw these floors after they were resurrected was the very first time I thought that the potential I saw in the house was not just a figment of my imagination.

Mind you–this gloriousness is currently only enjoyed by the tenants and T and I —–when we are working in the tenants’ apartments. Many moons from now–we too–will have floors that we can walk barefoot on without the fear of splinters.