IKEA | projectophile

For those of you just tuning in, Babushka is the code name we’ve affectionately given the old Polish lady who lived in our house for the last 60 years. We don’t know much about her, but the evidence suggests that Babushka loved carpets and curtains and sickly shades of jaundiced pink. Like us, Babushka had three kids, and since they are adults now (Scott met them and says they seem healthy), presumably she fed them, but without the benefit of counter space or proper kitchen storage. The kitchen when we first toured the house, in August. And yes, this is the photo that the realtor used: The kitchen right after we bought it:

You’d never guess that window on the left faces a brick wall.

Our first dinner in the new house, before we moved — Chinese takeout eaten on the oven door. Babushka left the pink chairs, which we still use: We started with the one job we HAD to do before we moved in — pull up that tile and refinish the gorgeous maple floors beneath. Since our floor crew didn’t finish until the day before we moved, we just bought a fridge and made the best of our little kitchen. Then, about a month in, I couldn’t take it any more: The bad lighting, the lack of storage space, the greasy-pink color scheme, the hole in the ceiling. We’re in no position for a full renovation, so I headed to the paint store with my favorite coffee mug, and sent the two oldest males to IKEA to buy about $100 worth of shelves, hooks and task lighting.

But first, a wee bit of destruction (my favorite!) — removing the mysterious wooden rail that ran along the entire perimeter of the kitchen, about 5 feet up. The rail put up a good fight against my chisel and crowbar; I’m not sure it was a fair fight, since the rail had 4 coats of paint to defend itself, plus scary 3-inch nails holding it in place. The euphoria of victory wore off when I realized I’d need to apply 5 coats of joint compound to hide the wall canal I left behind. Nothing I can’t survive with a comfy pair of sweatpants and 12 continuous hours of podcasts. Meanwhile, Scott drilled a square of drywall over a mysterious hole in the kitchen ceiling, probably caused by the formerly leaking upstairs toilet. The toilet leaking into the kitchen. Think about that for a moment. While Scott was up there, I handed him bucket of TSP solution so he could wash 50 years of kitchen grease off the ceiling and upper walls: PRO-TIP: When buying a fixer-upper house (especially with high ceilings), make sure you are significantly shorter than your DIY Partner. The taller person always gets stuck hanging drywall into the ceiling, and washing the ceiling, and painting the ceiling, and …. well, you get the idea.

Here’s a closeup of the kitchen wall after what appears to be 50 years of drinking, smoking, hitchhiking, and bar fights* (before and after a TSP scrub): After the big scrub-down, we gave everything a nice coat of white primer. The next day, we painted the ceiling a crisp white, and the walls the color of my favorite Mid-Century Fiestaware® coffee mug: When the paint was barely dry, I hung these three IKEA Grundtal wall shelves in the formerly useless corner between the windows (Babushka put her fridge there, blocking the back window). These shelves ain’t pretty, but stainless steel fits effortlessly into any kitchen. More importantly, they’re cheap, lightweight, easy to install, and hold nearly 40 pounds of stuff: Next we hung this lovely white IKEA Varde shelf. In contrast to its Grundtal cousins, the Varde is heavy, awkward and useless, weighing more than it can hold. But it sure is pretty above our gleaming white 1957 stove: Finally, we mounted a couple of LED light strips under the original cabinets to brighten the sink area. And I dare say that now, we’ve got a mostly functioning kitchen. Let’s take a tour! Here’s that shelf above the stove, now charmingly cluttered: Until we can figure out something better, we just wedged an old IKEA Micke desk between the stove and the fridge. The stool we found in the alley behind our last apartment. Note that I was in the middle of making dinner when I snapped these pics, hence all the food preparation that seems to be going on. The light just seemed right. If we swing around to the other wall, you’ll see that my beloved Upcycled Recycling Center has finally found a home in the Babuska kitchen! Traveling along the west wall, you’ll see that there’s enough free space for a “breakfast nook” — our patio table, plus the two pink chairs that Babushka left behind. Note that since the coffee cups match the wall, they virtually disappear in your hand. For whatever that’s worth: And the old Kelvinator Kabients couldn’t be more thrilled to be surrounded by green, picking up the undertones of their glass doors. And that under-cabinet lighting makes dishwashing almost tolerable! (artwork courtesy of Matt Avery/ PSA) We’re pretty happy with our little makeover, which (not counting the floors), cost about $200 total. The paint color- while period-appropriate– pushed me out of my comfort zone, and I couldn’t be more thrilled.