Renovating
I found a nice spot in Oodi to finish up my blog about our engagement. Jon Hull
Yesterday, I was in Helsinki. I checked out of our Airbnb and needed a place to relax for a while before my train to the airport, so I sat in Oodi and finished up another blog.
Now, I am sitting in my apartment at the kitchen table, listening to the sound of the dishwasher. It is sort of hypnotic. The rhythmic shushing of the water and hum of the motor put me in a good head space for writing. It is also nice to know that dishes are getting clean, and I hardly have to lift a finger. The dishwasher is askew, though. I installed it in a rush because I wanted to have all of the appliances in place before Jessica returned from Singapore in May.
…
About three years ago, she and I decided to go long distance. I remember the moment that the thought first crystalized for us. My legs were coated in bug spray. We sat on the small dock of an Indian restaurant with the Caribbean Sea lapping quietly at its moorings.
We realized we had four options:
We both return to the United States.
We both go to Singapore.
We break up.
We go long distance for a while.
We both immediately crossed out option three, and we were left with two questions: Does one of us compromise for the other and potentially miss out on a dream? Do we give long distance a shot and both miss out on time with each other?
As we talked, it became clear that we would each be happy to compromise, but—for the rest of our lives—there would be lingering what ifs?
One of the things we try to guard against in our relationship is potential for seeds of resentment. Anytime either of feels that we’d be compromising on something that may come back up later, we treat that situation with the utmost seriousness.
We wanted different things and to remain a unit. So, it was decided. Jessica would go to Asia and make life changing money; I would find a home and renovate with Dad.
Demolishing the Kitchen
Dad’s truck loaded with kitchen demo. Jon Hull
Jessica’s dad, Paul, rode the train down from Windsor on a chilly April morning. He arrived around 8 a.m. just as Dad and I were readying the sledgehammers. We beat the hell out of the old granite countertop, dismantled the cabinets, stripped the wall down to the studs, and—piece by piece—lugged it all to Dad’s pick-up truck. We finished in the evening with pizza from Pepe’s.
The first reaction I usually get when I show people photos of the old kitchen is, “Oh, that’s pretty nice.”
It was fine. Probably, it would have made sense to replace the windows, furnace, and AC condenser first. The thing is, the kitchen really was not functional and I hated it. There was only drawer which was six inches wide; the refrigerator occupied 25 percent of the kitchen space; there was no logical pantry; the sink sat in a peninsula which jutted into the living area. It felt incredible to destroy it all.
The Work
Dad and I got to work during my April vacation. I designed the kitchen on IKEA’s website and ordered $7,000 of cabinets. The apartment became a storage facility and construction zone.
The apartment after two months of work with Dad and then Mom’s touch.
We worked like mad men: my cousin Sean came and relocated the sink; I installed new floors and built cabinets; Dad worked on the ceiling and custom built-in shelves. It became clear that the work was going to extend beyond my vacation.
My after-work routine for the next few weeks consisted of cleaning up last night’s mess and making a new one to clean up the next day. Dad declined a few substitute teaching jobs to come down on weekdays to finish the ceiling. By the end of Memorial Day weekend, we had installed the countertops and sink. I had a truly functional kitchen.
Mom came down the night before Jessica arrived to beautify. My apartment looked like a home at the end of the night for the first time since April. We sat out on the back porch, shared a drink, and looked in. I felt a deep sense of relief—to behold two months of toil.
Jessica loves it. I love it.
Now, there’s a lot of finish work to be done. Drywall needs repairing, backsplash tile needs installing, the ceiling needs painting, and the cabinets need pulls. Dad and I will tackle as much of this as we can in the next couple of weeks before I start my new job.
We bought this place on August 14 of last year. As I suspect is true of many who renovate, I often only see a the list of tasks. But as I write this, I take a bit of satisfaction in what we’ve been able to achieve in 12 months.
Before and Currently in Progress
