More Anthropologie love

I don't do ornamental kitchen accessories.

My kitchen is naked of bits of wrought iron. There are no ceramic roosters or pigs or cows roaming my counters. (And why is it always farm animals? Not just farm animals. Farm animals on the people food chain. A ceramic kitchen donkey, for example, is pretty rare. A kitchen rooster...not so much. Is it easier to eat bacon if a cute, winking pig sits by your sink?)

Sorry. I'm digressing. And this isn't a sermon on becoming vegetarian. That would be hypocritical. And it isn't a rant about farm animals used as decor. (One of my favorite decorative pieces...a remnant from a French Country obsession I had years ago...is an iron rooster that sits in my music room.)

Don't get me wrong. My countertops are cluttered. Always. (Which may be why I don't want to add to the chaos with copper this or china that.) I do love useful kitchen items though. The graceful curves of utensil canisters or mixing bowls or pitchers make me swoon. So I'm always keeping an eye out for something utilitarian and colorful and lovely to add to my kitchen.

So of course I fell in love with these.

These little spice jars from Anthropologie are perfection. They come in four soft, beautifully retro  colors, perfect for a vintage kitchen. Each lid has a rubber ring to make the container airtight. Their size is perfect for spices (or sugar cubes or paper clips or tiny dog treats). I keep salt and pepper and a combination of sugar/cinnamon in mine. I think I'll put sugar cubes in the fourth. Each is numbered and says, "Plein de Bonnes Choses" along the bottom (which frankly veers a bit Martha Stewart for me...although cutely Francophone. Still that doesn't detract too much from this jar's overall adorableness).

Best of all, each spice jar is only $4. Four dollars! Come on. What can you buy for $4? Another dish towel? This is like the perfect little treat for your house.

Just picture these in your Cooking Apple White (or white or cream or yellow) kitchen.

Adorable!

Beautiful Arsenic

You know how you're shopping and something just catches your eye? I picked up a copy of June 2011's Real Simple at Costco today. This is what caught my attention.

So many things I love about this cover. The pretty beadboard. The simple, but lovely shapes of teapot and bowls and pitcher. The perfectly casual, but arranged collections on the open shelves. And that color. What is that color??

Farrow & Ball Arsenic.

Arsenic had seemed so intimidating, so intense on my color swatches. In this photo, it looks beautifully vintage and inviting. It just might be the perfect color for my mudroom (which has been bare drywall for months and months).

Here's an image of Arsenic from the Farrow & Ball site. What do you think?

Magic lanterns...and redecorating spring festival style

This morning over coffee and a bagel, I fell head over heels for a lighting piece.

Isn't it magical? And by the way, darn you for this temptation,  New York Times' T Magazine. (Photo by Coppi Barbieri, via the New York Times)

The basket chandelier designed by Marco Dessi for J. & L. Lobmeyr. This is not simply a light fixture. It's an illuminated work of art. The basket is created from glass tubes bent in hexagons and stacked into a shape inspired by traditional lanterns. The creation is woven with silk cords and lit by a twisted spiral of halogen bulbs.

So, will a Dessi basket be coming home? Not likely. My low-ceilinged Colonial has nowhere to showcase this gem. More to the point, it costs as much as I'm hoping to spend on my master bathroom renovation. Hmmm...incredible jewel of a light fixture or a new bathroom without a Tupperware lid glued to the shower ceiling? When put like that, it's not really a hard decision, is it?

I did do a little spring redecorating. Let's say it was inspired by our local spring festival. Or rather, using things brought home from our local spring festival. (If you were there and saw a man wearing a silly balloon hat, that was my husband. The good sport.)

An homage to Friday's royal wedding?

It's not Chihuly, but it does have a certain something, doesn't it? Speaking of Chihuly, I still haven't gone to the Museum of Fine Arts Boston's Chihuly: Through the Looking Glass exhibit. I've been an enormous fan of Dale Chihuly's since I saw his Chihuly: alla Macchia exhibition years ago. I can't wait to go.

In springtime

In springtime,
The only pretty ring time,
Birds sing, "Hey ding...a-ding a-ding."
Sweet lovers love...the spring.
~ Willy Wonka

Happy first day of spring!

To celebrate, I had ideas. Plans, even. Plans and ideas. All of which centered around photographing signs of spring. A green blade thrusting through the dirt. Fat bursting buds. Maybe even a flower.

But I live in New England, home of tempermental weather. For most of the day, it snowed. And slurried. And spit icy rain. All in all, a most unspringlike beginning to spring.

The mail saved the day.

There's something about the phrase "Royal Mail" that evokes romance. "United States Postal Service" just doesn't have the same ring. "Royal Mail" conjures up images of a gleaming carriage à la Cinderella. And a footman with powdered peruke bowing, "Your package, Madame."

Inside the package? Buttons! English buttons!

I greedily poured them through my fingers. They felt smooth, lovely. If I were a miser, I'd cackle happily. Instead (because...you know...I'm not), I poured them into a jar.

Don't these colors remind you of springtime?

So much prettier than the slushy gray outside. I absolutely love the gentle greens and pale lemons and muted ocher. The colors remind me of my Cooking Apple Green kitchen.

So what am I planning to do with a jar of buttons? "Stay tuned," say I mysteriously.

Kitchen shelf love

This may be a classic case of a picture is worth a thousand words.

I love open shelves in kitchens. Whether they're elegantly decorative or eclectic and functional, open shelves have a certain warm, inviting charm. So you can imagine my happy dance when Will put up my wall shelves. It's the perfect place to stash the girls' art supplies.

And a place to showcase my favorite Mason Cash bowl. I smile every time I walk into my kitchen.

The new display space inspired me to research white ironstone. Did you know that white ironstone is trendy? I had no idea. Is there some odd Jungian collective kitchen decorating unconscious at work here? I've been spending many happy hours puttering around etsy looking at white ironstone.

You can really see the wall color here...Farrow & Ball Farrow's Cream. A gently sunny color...perfect for our many gray New England days. Only a few more items to finish before my kitchen is 100% done. (Or maybe it will always be a work lovingly in progress...)

Vintage + Etsy = love

From tentpitcher design at Etsy:

A vintage enamel-covered metal breadbox. Isn't she a beauty? With a bit of rust and a slightly imperfect finish (I refer to this as "patina"). Exactly as described by Lise at tentpitcher. Large enough for multiple loaves of bread. I love having the bread on the countertop, close at hand.

These vintage enamel-covered bread boxes appear from time to time on eBay and Etsy. They also sometimes show up at antique shows or vintage shops. Modern bread boxes with retro styling are still in production as well.

Polder makes this white toolbox-style bread box. It's also available in black.

And for those craving a bit more color, Wesco makes a line of bread boxes (or bread bins as they're called in the UK) in a spectrum of saturated, playful colors. Based on the original 1940s Wesco design, these bins are made in Germany.

The Breadboy from Wesco offers a slight variant on the toolbox shape. Absolutely beautiful.

My green beauty will definitely not be showing up on regretsy. If you've decided that a vintage (or modern) enamel-coated bread box is in your kitchen's future, happy hunting! It may take a little while, but I know you'll find just the right one.

Ringing in the new (IKEA Ramsjö butler's pantry)

We said goodbye to 2010 quietly. The past two days were not soaked in auld lang syne and champagne. Instead, bleary-eyed after an intense two days of IKEA cabinet building, we paused for a quick prosecco toast, surrounded by stray screws and a massive cardboard mountain.

This morning, we awoke to 2011 and our new butler's pantry.

Like the kitchen proper, the butler's pantry needs more finish work, but for now, it functions. You can see a peek of the Farrow & Ball Farrow's Cream (the wall color for both pantry and kitchen). Below is the pull-out pantry. Fantastic for organizing pantry staples and canned goods.

Can I confess something?

I'm tired of making design decisions. Between refreshing our old house for sale and renovating this one, I'm on my third straight year of renovations. I'm crispy. Many of you have been renovating your older homes for years. I don't know how you do it. Many, many kudos to you.

So. I just wanted the butler's pantry done. No angsting over details. I did have a few requirements. 1. I wanted wood. My butler's pantry is at a junction between kitchen, dining room, mudroom, and back hall. It's high traffic, and I thought wood would hold up better (and be easier to paint or redo if dinged). 2. I wanted to complement the already existing finishes in the house. 3. I needed for it to be done relatively inexpensively.

The black-brown Ramsjö is more transitional than my eclectic, vintage-looking kitchen. The color echoes the black Aga, the dark soapstone, my black dining and breakfast room chairs, and the black painted paneling in the powder room. It's also a beautiful kitchen cabinet door and finish. To boost the vintage factor, I'll add a Vermont Danby marble counter (we're using a butcher block remnant for now). I'm also on the hunt for an antique mirror to use as a backsplash, and maybe...if I'm feeling ambitious, I'll wallpaper the interior back.

Of course...I put mixed pulls on the cabinetry.

The pull toward the rear is the polished nickel Bistro from Restoration Hardware. The knobs are all from Anthropologie (from left to right, the Ceramic Melon Knob in linen,  the Chronograph Knob, and Mercury Glass Melon Knob). Whew! I love having fun with hardware.

I hope that you all had a wonderful 2010. Here's to many adventures (and only a few misadventures) in 2011!

Life with Danby marble

I was cleaning up today after breakfast and realized that our kitchen has been a working one for about a month now. Has it been that long? And the walls still aren't painted?!? Sorry. I'm getting off-track...

Forget the lemon, wine, et. al. tests I did with our marble samples. How is the Danby marble holding up after some real life use and abuse? I actually had to think about this. And go hunting for etch marks. Because the marble has been so functional and easy to take care of that I'd started taking it for granted.

I have to admit that we babied the marble the first several days. It was reserved for sandwich prep and other clean tasks. I wiped up spills right away. Then slowly, slowly, we slipped back into our old, sloppy ways. Last weekend, I used our marble counter to make a really messy pumpkin puree and left pumpkin splats on the counter for...gasp...hours!

And here's the counter...still unstained after all that abuse. It has etched. A few etch marks. The circular etches show up very clearly in the photo, but only because I took the photo at an acute angle. If you stood over the counter, you really couldn't see them at all.

Here's an etch mark in the dark veining of our Mountain White Danby marble. I know it's there, but I still had to hunt to find it for this shot.

What do you think? Remember that the photos were deliberately taken to highlight the etch marks. They're nowhere near as visible in real life. If just knowing that these marks existed would make you reach for your Brillo pad, then perhaps marble isn't the right surface for you. If you can shrug off these etches, Danby marble can be a wonderful countertop. Classic. Beautiful with such a subtle shimmer. Durable.

Now if only my soapstone counter were as problem-free...

Kitchen pulls and knobs in action

You've seen the pieces in their not-yet-installed state. Here they are in their functional glory. In total, I mixed three finishes (antiqued brass, painted, clear glass) and five shapes (bin pulls, drawer pulls, and three slightly different round knobs). I'd worried that the results would be haphazard. Instead, the casual mix adds to the relaxed, collected over time look.

I love these vintage library bin pulls from eBay. They're installed on the Cooking Apple Green top drawers and down the drawer stack by the dishwasher. Six in total. I've found some bin pulls to be a bit shallow and frustrating when in a hurry. (I'm always in a hurry.) However, these bin pulls have lots of finger room and even more patinated charm.

Later, I'd love to create some cards to slip into the pulls. "Pots" and "spices" and so on. It would be really fun to type them up on an old typewriter. You know, the kind with slightly broken type. I could go totally over the top and create some Dewey Decimal numbers. Remember them?

These glass knobs from Anthropologie add a little sparkle to the glass-fronted cabinets. These are the only inset cabinets in the kitchen, and these knobs add the perfect vintage touch. You do have to be careful if you go with Anthropologie glass knobs. I noticed that quite a few of them had little nicks or chips. Once installed, these knobs haven't been dinged yet though so I don't think they're super fragile.

These antique brass knobs and pulls from Horton Brasses are beautiful to look at and to use. See those gorgeous, subtle curves? Yum. They fit my hand comfortably. So important because they're installed in the much used pots-and-pans drawers. (Ignore the gaping hole. That's for the trash pullout that hasn't been installed yet. Beware taking a DIY break. I've noticed that it tends to grow into a DIY extended vacation.) I'd worried about using two small pulls instead of one, but I've had no problems. It's probably important in that case to use good drawer glides (Blum in our case).

Finally, why don't people use painted knobs more? I have to admit that these Farrow & Ball Old White painted knobs were borne out of desperation. I'd wanted dark stained wood knobs, but couldn't decide on exactly the right color. Now? I'm so glad that I went this route. I'm not sure how durable they'll, but so far, so good. And it's a very nice, subdued look.

If you're in the throes of kitchen hardware obsession, well, I was once in your shoes. In those shoes for such a very long time that my feet ached. I scoured the internet for endless hours, poring over every hardware website I could find. Don't worry. Your choices will be beautiful. No worries.

Cabinet love

Recently, a blog reader emailed me to ask who'd built my cabinets. It hit me then. I'd forgotten to mention my cabinetmakers! The wonderful folks responsible for my custom Cooking Apple Green and Old White cabinets are Country Craftsmen in Uxbridge, MA.

Patty and Billy executed a detailed plan flawlessly from inset uppers to custom-height drawers. Their prices were very reasonable. They measured carefully and correctly. (Those of you who've heard horror stories of too big or too small cabinets know how important this is.) They completed the cabinets exactly on schedule. Billy even came back to adjust the inset hinges after our general contractor installed the cabinets.

We chose their dovetailed wood drawers with Blum full-extension, soft-close hardware. The insides of these drawers feel like lustrous silk. Country Craftsmen also offers Blum tandembox.

For our blind corner cabinet, they installed Hafele's Magic Corner I. The blind corner was the only cabinet configuration that gave us both the large sink and the trash pullout that we wanted.

Furniture feet detail gave the Farrow & Ball Old White cabinets an unfitted look. Yes, you can put furniture feet on frameless cabinets. Their sprayed paint finish was exquisite. Silken smooth. Their wood finishes that we saw were equally well done.

I couldn't decide what color our hood should be so I'm waiting until all the other elements are in place. We asked that the hood be primed only, not painted. Billy used reclaimed white oak that matches our flooring to trim out the hood.

Many thanks to you, Patty and Billy, for my beautiful cabinetry. I smile every single day when I use my kitchen. It still feels like a dream to be in a functional kitchen with smoothly gliding drawers and tons of storage. A very happy dream.

Gack! I think I goofed.

The electrician put up the lighting today. This time, I think I took eclecticism a step too far. Each light is beautiful on its own. Together, they don't look like they belong in the same kitchen. The overhead lights are too big, and the pendants are too small. I'm channeling Goldilocks and the three renovating bears. The old breakfast room light's size is just right, but it adds yet a third discordant element.

Oh well.

At least we have lighting. We can do things in the room after dark without rigging up work lights!

And it's fairly easily changed. Just expensive. And/or time-consuming. And I feel stupid for goofing up.

At least it's not the cabinets, counters, or backsplash, right?

Do you want to see my goofs? Here they are. Be kind.

Restoration Hardware's Optic semi-flushmount in polished nickle. I have two of these down the center of the room. I love the prism glass, and it throws fantastic light. But they're just so darn big. It seems to compete with the hood. It's not quite the right look either. Too vintage American and not vintage English?

Here's the verdigris pendant light from Sundance Catalog. I have two of these as well, one in front of each window. Love its shape and beautiful industrial vibe. But too small for the space. And weirdly at odds with the RH light.

So keep what? Change which? We're keeping everything for now. There's still so much work to be done. Waterlox the floors (again). Prime and paint the rooms and trim. Prime and paint the exterior new shingles.

Speaking of work, I had four different trades in my house today at the same time. It was a madhouse. But look. Grout! More photos tomorrow.

The kitchen sink

They had me worried. They really did. No plumbers by school drop-off. No plumbers by mid-morning. But arrive they did. They used odd-smelling stuff and made loud noises, and here are the results of their day's labor.

This afternoon, I washed grapes for the girls with my new faucet, and I felt like a queen.

(And for you sharp-eyed folks, yes, that's Agatha you see just in frame in the middle photo. She's awaiting a new gas line and installation. Who knows when that will be, but heck. I have running water and a deep sink! I'm one content gal.)

So there's good news and bad news...

The bad news is that I came home this afternoon to find only the short wall of tile up. The back story. The tiler said he would come yesterday. He did not. He declared that he could do the entire job Friday. This morning, it was amended to installation today, grouting tomorrow. And this afternoon...well...you know the story.

This seems to be a recurring reno pattern. A really, really annoying recurring pattern.

The tiler, plumber, and electrician were all scheduled to get their work done this week. One-third out of three isn't the greatest batting average. You'd get sent down to the minors for sure.

I'd been telling my friends that we should have a working kitchen sometime next week. Was I crazy? Tempting fate? Not knocking on wood? Counting my chickens? Ugh.

Good news? Well, I think the backsplash looks good.

The floor that ate my husband

or "Why you shouldn't lay two floors in one month (a cautionary tale)."

Here's the guilty party.

Marmoleum Click in the mudroom. It's installed in a checkerboard pattern with Barbados and Eternity. The gray is reminiscent of soapstone, a dark gray that leans the tiniest bit green. The colors work beautifully together and give the same classic, retro feel as a white/black floor, but in more muted tones.

Installation was very easy and swift once Will figured out the trick. Note: installation does not involve lots of furious hammering. We were both feeling quite smug. Finally! We had flooring that wasn't torn and stained sheet vinyl or plywood. Fantastic!

Then yesterday, Will woke up with non-working knee. He didn't call a doctor. He said it's okay, and it will probably just get better in a few days. Meanwhile, this is what I heard when he was up and about. Limp, limp, (muffled curse), pause, limp, pause, gritted teeth. Yes. You can hear gritted teeth.

So I, the sage veteran of two knee surgeries, leaped into diagnostic mode. Torn meniscus? ACL injury? Anyway, whatever it is, this is relatively severe. The knee can't support weight unless locked straight. So won't you please call the freakin' doctor?!?!?

A warning for you DIYers out there (especially those who are 40+ like us). Take it easy. I'd worried about all sorts of things from nail gun punctures to gory saw-inflicted gashes. A knee injury never crossed my mind.

Update: Severe bursitis. My husband has housemaid's knee!

Creating a custom blend

yourself is c-r-a-z-y. Gibbering, hair-standing-on-end insanity, I tell you. Making the design look random (but not too random) while making sure that the colors are balanced throughout. I'm seriously thinking about fleeing to Home Depot and grabbing up some crackled cream subway tile.

We are not trained professionals. Do not try this at home.

To make matters more fun, it looks like we're just short on tiles. Last-minute road trip to New Hampshire with little kids! Because of the long weekend, we have to wait until Tuesday to find out if tiles are even available. Deep, even breaths. Whooo.

Just put one foot in front of the other

"Just put one foot in front of the other,
And soon you'll be walkin' 'cross the floor.
Just put one foot in front of the other,
And soon you'll be walkin' out the door!"

- Santa Claus is Coming to Town

Christmas in August? Almost. I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve, buzzing with anticipation. Cabinets are almost, but not fully installed. We need to adjust some doors.

Renovating our kitchen has been a lesson in taking one step at a time and shrugging off the occasional, inevitable step backwards. That said, I love walkin' 'cross our new floor. Sawdust and all.

Hardware

Hardware. I've had a heck of a time with hardware. This is what happens when you get all cutesy and buy vintage library pulls. Next to all that authentic, patinated goodness, most modern hardware looked too glossy, too perfect. Plus, I was trying my darndest to keep to a restrained budget.

This is where Horton Brasses came in. Founded in the early 30s, Horton Brasses is a family-owned company in Connecticut. Their foundry produces beautiful reproduction hardware of all sorts from hinges, casters, furniture trim to house numbers.

Online, their Antique finish looked like a match for my pulls. The pull shape was simple, and the finish looked muted. Perfect. The hardware arrived yesterday. When they said it would come quickly, they weren't kidding.

In person, their hardware was even better. The metal was ever-so-slightly distressed. Nothing gaudy, but a lovely, barely discernible texture to the metal. The shape and heft were perfect. Comfortable in the hand. The only downer was that their 8-3/4" appliance pull that I'd been hoping to use for my 36" pot drawers was too massive. Just far too beefy for the quiet, delicately colored apple green cabinets. So I'll exchange them for the AD-4010 4-7/8" pulls and just use two per drawer.*

So here are my hardware pieces. Forgive the dusty background. My theme song lately is "Sawdust Gets in Your Eyes." Much less romantic somehow than "Smoke."

*Am I the only person who footnotes their blog posts? Too much academia at an impressionable age? Anyway, Horton Brasses will finish Restoration Hardware pulls in their Antique color. A fellow blogger and cool cook/kitchen chick had them do exactly this in her new kitchen. So I dallied briefly with buying 8" Ephraim pulls from Restoration Hardware, and having Horton Brasses finish them in Antique. But I still worried about scale. So I decided to be lazy and go with the smaller pulls. I know those will look good, and I'll get over not having one center pull.