custom kitchen | Cabinets, electric, concrete countertops, tiling
When I decided I would build my own apartment above the garage…I never dreamt that it would be as beautiful as it turned out in the end. Throughout the 2 year process of building my first space, I learned so much from my dad.
It all started with some basic plans I drew up, and a whole lot of naivety. Although I grew up watching my dad transform the various childhood houses we lived in from homely so-sos into custom works of art through his constant home-projecting, now that it was all in my hands, I quickly realized how much I had to learn.
I started by asking to borrow some tools, to which dad said, “time to buy your own tools,” to which I admittedly recall being quite bummed out about…but would soon come to realize this as my first very important lesson (thanks dad). My dad is the kind of person who says things like, “figure it out,” and “watch a Youtube video.” So you do….then just when you think you have a plan and have purchased all the materials necessary to execute, he comes in with “I wouldn’t have gotten that,” and “don’t be a cheap ass- go get ______ instead” (fill in blank with the much more expensive but ultimately more beautiful and forever-lasting option). And so an entire car load of Home “Cheapo” snap-together vinyl flooring was driven back and reloaded to the store, and in the weeks following I would, floor-clamped row by nail-gunned nail, put in a beautiful, real hardwood beech floor with my Dad.
“You could do this….” another one of dad’s favorite phrases to throw in. Right when you are about to close up the walls a bedazzling idea is presented out of thin air- you could inlay a wooden bookshelf there instead of that LAST piece of drywall….you know, complete with an obscure slide-out bottom shelf that reveals a secrect compartment. And so the apartment build went. My dad’s mind was a loose cannon of artistic ideas- always bombing the “plans” and forcing me to rethink them better.
Oh, and did I mention- my dad is a retired electrician. Being able to ask questions like: where do I want to plug things in, what will actually happen on this surface, where will people stand when I have company? Do I want lights under the cabinets—and inside some too (yes). To hand-tailor a space you’ll return to day after day, a place where so much love will be cooked up over time, is hard to put into words. It takes a kitchen from something you use into something you live in.
Dad carefully built the places where all my pots and pans would sleep. Deep consideration went into how I would rouse them from their slumber—no more clanging and clambering, crawling into the depths of a cabinet to battle rogue lids and unruly colanders. Instead, wooden drawers glide softly open, their contents revealed in the light for calm selection and easy stowing. We mixed concrete and carefully troweled it smooth, custom countertops with perfect edges meeting the woodwork.
I was in awe when I saw the cherry inlay tucked into each and every cabinet door. I helped Dad carefully route the edges and sand them smooth, working them down until they shined.
Bonus: cats love dad. All measuring tapes on the job are dual purposed cat toys.
