This is a completely unsolicited recommendation, done in my usual rambling fashion. Deal with it. It's my website!

Late last year, Doug and I began playing the "what're we gonnado?" game. 

This is the one where your kids will be gone fairly soon, and you wonder, what will we do with the empty nest? Him being a forecaster by profession, and me being likewise a risk manager, we sat down and talked it out. The upshot was, we went on a preliminary househunting expedition, just to scope things out. Townhouses and condos are springing up like mushrooms in our area.

Well, as a good friend of mine would put it, we "got our little nerves wrecked". And how! Half a day of visiting new construction in our area showed us that we would be crazy to sell our home. At two to three times the price, we would get half the house, and little or no land. (We are fortunate enough to sit on nearly an acre of dog/squirrel playground.)  Apparently sleepy little Mableton had turned from redneck haven to "desirable close-in location" while we were napping.

I told  my husband, good grief!!!! We can stay just where we are, renovate, pay lawn care service for life, and still come out ahead. He agreed, and the Great Kitchen Remodel began.

It started with a brief jaunt out to Home Depot to pick up a long forgotten item. While we were there, I wandered over to the kitchen department and was eyeing the countertops, which had a Cabinet Refacing display conveniently adjacent.

Next thing I know, the Helpful Salesman had made us an appointment for refacing, and two nights later we had a very pleasant gentleman sitting in our kitchen. We signed a contract in the heat of the moment, and the next day, went back to Home Depot to look at countertops. Helpful Salesman asked us "how much did he quote?", and we told him. His eyes goggled, his breath went short, and he gasped, "But, I can sell you new cabinets for that!"  Suddenly, we developed an intense case of buyers remorse. Thankfully, contracts signed in your home in Georgia have a cooling off period, and we immediately cancelled the cabinet refacing.

I remembered some photos I had cut from several British magazines years earlier, and pulled them out. The kitchens were based on butler's pantry designs, and  I found  I still liked them as much as ever.

Helpful Salesman was very helpful, but nothing in his lines appealed, and he finally said, "I can't do this, you ought to check in to custom work".

The first place we contacted was a trendy kitchen design place in Buckhead. The designer came out to the house, sat down at the kitchen table, and I showed her my clippings. She glanced briefly at them, and then hauled out catalogues of all the finery her company had available. I tried to tell her, "No, no!!! Simplify! Simplify!" But she was off and running, talking barley twist trim and wine racks, and I'm not sure she ever heard what I was saying.  My fears were borne out when she provided sketches of a bland, overwrought kitchen that could have been in any spec home in town. Her ultimate quote was a jaw dropper.

I swallowed my disappointment, and googled as much information as I  could about kitchens. I found a fantastic company up in New Hampshire that did kitchens similar to what I wanted via mail order. I was very excited, but Doug reined me in, reminding me we had no construction experience. Shoot, we barely know which end of a hammer is which.

At this point, I had started ripping wallpaper off the walls, more in frustration that nothing was happening, than by any clear plan.

One night, as I sat at the computer, I remembered an antiques and furniture dealer I had seen in a tiny shop down on Bennett Street, fifteen or more years ago. I remember admiring the large Irish dressers they had on display. I googled it and found Designer Antiques ( www.designerantiques.com ).  Adam Maloney came right out to our house, and sat down for a couple of hours with me, carefully looking at my clippings, listening to what I had to say, and giving me suggestions to improve the rudimentary drawings I had made. I didn't feel intimidated, or like I was some kind of freak escapee from the Land of  Bad Taste. Adam "got it", and his suggestions were complimentary.

Ironically, to this day I am not sure this was even the same company on Bennett Street, but I was so pleased with the meeting, and the subsequent quote and drawings, that we accepted them without (foolishly, perhaps) checking references, or asking to see samples.

It seemed like nothing happened for weeks and weeks on our end, and I was starting to bite my nails. Then Adam and his cabinetmaking crew invited us to visit their shop to take a look at the cabinets, which had been completed, and were awaiting paint. I have to say, as a clean freak, their shop was so clean, I could have eaten off the floor- I was quite impressed. When I saw the cabinets lined up, it was really exciting. All of a sudden, I could taste the end of this process.

I choked on picking a color for the cabinets, and held up things for a couple of weeks while I waffled until Adam kindly (and firmly) told me to pick and gave me a couple of suggestions.

At this point, we suddenly realized we needed to pull out our old cabinets, knock out a small pantry wall, and prime and paint the walls and ceiling.  We also made arrangements for new flooring, new light fixtures, and drywall repair.

The delivery crew showed on a Saturday morning, exactly at the appointed hour, and those guys were the best movers I have ever seen in my life. Not one time did my cabinets touch the ground (or each other) without there being a quilted cloth over under or in between them. They treated everything like it was the finest china. And wow! were they ever polite and pleasant fellows, too!

The guys that showed up do the actual kitchen installation were also polite and pleasant, and determined to make sure that the installation was flawless. The first day they were there, I couldn't figure out why nothing happened for a couple of hours, and was getting impatient. (After all, this was better than Christmas!) I went upstairs to check things out, just in time to catch them manouevering the sink cabinet over five carefully measured and drilled, randomly spaced holes. The cabinet went over the plumbing pipes like a glove. Keith just grinned at me and said, "Yeah, it's like I've done this before."

It was an amazing process, watching this kitchen come together. The guys, Adam, Mike, and Keith measured and remeasured every last iota of space to make sure everything went in perfectly. The paint shop did a flawless job, the finish is just wonderful.

Adam recommended a company called Custom Surfaces, on Marietta Street, for the countertops. We researched extensively online, and decided to go with Silestone, and I'm very glad we did. I have been exceedingly pleased with the quality and ease of maintenance of the Silestone. Besides, I love to bake biscuits, and rolling them out on Silestone just completely rocks, as does cleaning up the mess.

My saleslady at Custom Surfaces was Julie Brewer, and she must have sensed I was at the end of my rope. I ordered my countertops on Monday, and they were completed and installed the following Monday, and that was even with a 4th of July holiday in the middle. The Custom Surfaces crew were also great.  Very respectful of my home, and didn't bang the countertops around.

My kitchen is an intensely personal kitchen, and would probably make every real estate agent in town shudder, "boy, she just killed her resale value". But this is a lifetime kitchen, and my dream kitchen. It's exactly what I want.

I love the drawers, but the shelves.....wow!!!! Cooking is a pleasure now that I can just grab what I need right off the shelf. Cleaning up is even easier. You wouldn't think it would be, since everything is in plain view, but I just find an open spot on a shelf, and voila! It's picked up. As you can see from the photos, I'm a clutter monkey, so this might not be for everyone, but oh my heavens! It has made cooking soooooo much more convenient.

I couldn't have been happier with Adam Maloney and Designer Antiques, and also with Custom Surfaces.

I might add, the quality far surpasses what we expected (and we had high expectations), and we were able to bring the entire kitchen in under the Buckhead designer's quote for cabinets only, and this included cabinets, hardwood floor, countertops, sink, drywall, lighting,  a custom stained glass pantry door and even relocating and installing a tankless water heater under the house, to free up a closet for a new pantry.

We  decided, instead of going with a new "aged" farmhouse table,  to refinish our much loved (and "naturally" aged) kitchen table, and bought some unfinished chairs from a place up in Marietta. They sold canned milk paint, which we used on the table base and on the chairs. Milk paint has a really neat texture and finish, dries smoothly (even if it wasn't painted on smoothly) and very quickly, and seems hard as a rock. But, if you do use milk paint, make sure you have enough time to finish the project. The paint gets thick and gummy really fast, and is hard to use once it does. We were able to thin it out a bit by adding some milk, but that only added about five or ten minutes of life to the paint. It covers well, so we were able to get a good coat on six chairs with a pint can, believe it or not, and finished the job with the quart can we had, and even ended up throwing a lot of it out. You most definitely cannot keep left over milk paint.

I would halfway consider repainting my walls with milkpaint, too. I like the antiqued, chalky color and texture (I was trying to mimic an old British butlers' pantry, after all), and when we painted the chairs in the sunroom, to the joy of our birds, who loved watching us, there were no ill effects, because there was no odor at all. I wish I'd known about milk paint earlier, when my allergy prone kids were younger.

In leiu of curtains this time,  and keeping with the vintage theme, I have purchased several beautiful stained glass panels which we will hang above the windows. I got them from an excellent Ebay seller by the ID of  Grossie73.  Very high quality, and does a bangup job of packing the delicate glass panels.

My final touch will be a backsplash. Not sure if I will go with a chalkboard, or have this lady custom make me a Bag End tile garden.  Her tiles are exquisite.

All in all, the kitchen remodel was exciting, exhausting, energizing, and I am thrilled with the end results.

Now, here are my tips for surviving a kitchen remodel and beyond:

• Set a budget. Plan on at least 10% over and above what you think it will cost.


• Keep a clipping and photo file. Know what you love. Have an idea and don't go in clueless.


• Don't settle for "OK". If you don't love the cabinets on display, or aren't comfortable with the designer, move along. 


• Listen to what your designer suggests. They've got the experience. But, on the other hand, be firm with what you want. It's your kitchen.  Adam gently talked me out of green countertops, and thank heaven he did. He was 100% right. He was also bang on on cabinet color.


• Don't let some flooring guy talk you into laying floor before you've done any drywall that needs doing. We have a few bad scars on our floor from our drywall guy. Also, put a box or blanket under your fridge and stove, even if only moving them a few inches. Our flooring guys scooted our fridge back into place acrost freshly laid floor, and you can tell. Cie la vie.


• If they tell you two or three days to install the kitchen, double that, especially if your cabinet guys are perfectionists. (This is a good thing, btw!) 


• I already LOVE my bathtub sized sink. Get the biggest, best sink you can afford. It will make a world of difference.


• To our horror, we learned you have to have a stovetop vent, no matter how open your kitchen is. Retrofitting one can be very costly, if you have a low ceiling ,or, more particularly, a soffit like ours over the stove. After dozens of hours perusing the internet and visiting various kitchen centers, we hcame to the conclusion we'd have to have one custme made. We ordered a custom made one from Rangecraft. It came phenomenally well packed (my daughter is making a chest out of the cool wooden crate it came packed in!), and is a joy to cook with. I feel sinfully sexy standing under my shiny, fabulous Rangecraft hood. Worth every nickel.  


• If you are drywalling or sanding, seal doorways shut with a cheap plastic drop cloth and some of that blue painter's tape. If I had it to do again, I'd also seal off the AC vents and intake. This helped us keep the mess down tremendously.


• Plastic plates and utensils are your friend. You want to do as little washing up in the bathroom sink as possible. Trust me, washing a pasta pot and cookie sheet in a little bitty powder room sink just is not a happy time.


• Be extra nice to your pets. They don't understand what's going on, and get really nervy over the unfamiliar noises and commotion. We had a bird nearly have a nervous breakdown, and two months after the fact, he is only just getting back to normal.  Speaking of which, if you have birds or other small pets you can't throw out in the back yard, they are particularly sensitive to fumes emitted by some construction materials. We opened windows, ran ceiling fans, shut doors between us and them, and propped the back door open for ventilation.  


• A bucket of clear polyurethane works wonders for your woodwork. I put an old sock on, and rubbed the stuff on all our trim, molding, baseboards, door frames, doors, and even the cabinets in other rooms. That was the simplest thing I have ever done to completely refresh my house. It made all the woodwork look brand spanking new, and was so easy.  Again, remember your pets when you do this, because the polyurethane fumes will smell up the house for a day or two.


• Budget for small stuff. There were days when we made five trips up to Home Depot to get screws, brushes, replacement light switch covers. It'll add up, so keep your receipts in one location. On the flip side, we returned all the junk we didn't use, and got a refund of over $100!


• Get quarts of paint, put large patches in various places around the kitchen, and then live with the colors before you make your final decision.  A quart of paint and a cheap brush will only cost you about fifteen bucks, and it was worth it.


• Put at least one really beautiful, special thing in your kitchen. I had a custom stained glass door made for the closet we converted to a pantry. Every time I open this heavy, beautifully made door, I feel like a queen. ( www.jennifersglassworks.com )


• If you do decide to save a few bucks by removing your old cabinets, understand that this is HARD work. It will take you hours, make you tired and sore and crabby, and makes divorce look like a reasonable option. You will either need to make umpteen trips to the dump, or consider doing like we did, and give your old cabinets to a housing charity (they must be well cared for, carefully removed to prevent damage, and in excellent condition)


• For kicks, we listed our old microwave and sink on Craig's List. To our utter astonishment, they sold in less than a day. Not a great sum, but the $150 we made on them paid for that weekend's jaunts to Home Depot. Every little bit helps.


• I wish I had put toe kicks everywhere. I don't have a toe kick on my island, and am eternally stubbing my toe on it.


• We had the "hidden" garbage cans on a roller-drawer in the island, but ultimately removed them. It was inconvenient, and it always smelled awful. They look good on paper, but are icky in practice. We retrofitted rolling steel shelves from Lowe's there, which holds all my baking supplies and cookie sheets, so it wasn't a total wash.


• Be sure and put a convenient electrical outlet on your island. Sounds dumb, but it's a necessity.


• We went up to Binswanger Glass on Atlanta Rd and had them cut a thick piece of glass for our desktop. Inexpensive, and really protects the surface.


• I never liked the microwave over  the stove, because I would dribble hot water down my arms when I'd remove dishes, but I went too far in the other direction and made the microwave too low. We will probably rig up a way to raise it some. I still like having it lower, just not that low.


• And most important of all......remember, when the dust is swirling around you, and it seems like it will never end, it eventually will. Taking it out on your husband and/or kids does not earn you brownie points.

I could never find a tile backsplash I liked. Everything seemed to run to chianti bottles or cute little bunnies. Blech.

So, Katie came up with a brilliant idea. She has been visiting a "paint your own" tile place every week, and creating a new tile for me. Each tile will be something we love.....our pets, my great-great grandma's tiger lilies, chocolate cake (no explanation necessary!), and other family favorites.  Here's a couple of samples:

After just a couple of months, it became apparent to us that light fixtures, no matter how pretty, have no business being over a stove. Ugh!!!! This was one of those live and learn and spend money moments we all experience during (and especially, after) a remodelling. We pulled the lovely blown glass globes down, and after a couple of weeks of serious internet research, we ordered a custom made Rangecraft vent hood. We had to go custom because we had kept the low hanging soffit over the stove, after discovering most of the wiring for the upstairs ran through it. 

I really love the look of the nice range hood, and Katie's wonderful tile backdrop.



She also handpainted us these for Christmas. They match our beloved SMART cars!

And finally, the answer to that big, blank wall that had been making me crazy. There is nothing in our house that is blank. Nothing.   Walls are made for filling up with insane, personal things that make a house a home.

These stopped me in my tracks at the Yellow Daisy Festival. They are limited edition prints by an artist named Thomas Burns, at www.AtlantaVintageTravel.com . Each of these marvelous prints is a wonderful memory of growing up (and old!) in Atlanta. I can't tell you how happy it makes me to look up and see the Fox marquee, and my old love, the Pink Pig. I rode it as a child, and skipped school to ride it as a teenager.

When I was a child, and money was tight, my ever creative parents took us kids parking on the end of the runway at the old Atlanta Municipal Airport (now called Hartsfield Atlanta International), where we watched jets land barely feet above us and chowed down on picnics. My brother and sister, being deaf, revelled in the vibrations of the planes descending on us.

The Lake Lanier sailboat race drawing is especially meaningful, since Doug and I met via a sailing club there.