A few days after the happenings of the last post, Slick opened up the empty ceiling space over the dining room. The kitchen question had been decided, but the dining one remained. In other words, the whereabouts of the kitchen-to-be had been resolved, but whether to have a cathedral ceiling over our eating area had not.

The eventual destination of the kitchen was to be, technically, over the area previously occupied by the toilet room. This satisfied council requirements regarding preexisting plumbing, while also allowing us to use the 'pink bedroom', or north eastern corner room for our eventual kitchen. (May I just add that we are all SO glad that this is the way it worked out. The abundance of natural light in that kitchen is such a joy.) A wall, it was therefore decided, would be erected basically where the original wall had divided the toilet room from the shower/vanity room, partially cutting off the kitchen from the dining room area. The stove would stand on the concrete slab left over from the toilet room.

Part our deliberations regarding the dining room involved our wish to work with the principle that different ceiling heights help subtly divide spaces and indicate their uses. The theory was that if we had a higher ceiling above the dining room, it would delineate that area as different and separate from the lounge room. Another aspect we were juggling was energy in the forms of light and heat. If you remember reading an old post on the ideas and plans (read 'Exterior Philosophies') we had in the early days, you will recall that we played with the idea of lifting the roof height all along the ridge pole and putting in a second story. Like so:

But by this time we knew we didn't have the time and money necessary to make this possible. We had not, however, ruled out putting windows in the gable to let extra light and heat through. We were already decided that the concrete floor of the dining/bathroom area was an ideal passive solar heat sink, so more windows seemed a good idea. However, several considerations had to be taken into account. The biggest was represented by the major beams running the nearly the width of the building. Structurally, a cathedral ceiling was impractical. We also worked out that not much usable light could be collected through the gable.

(Above and below): Slick opening up the ceiling over the dining room.

 

 

As can be seen above, the only remaining ceiling area is above where the toilet room was.

 

Home education within a home renovation.

 

The show must go on.

 

And then someone brought up the idea of an attic area, again. Why not go the opposite direction from a cathedral ceiling and instead drop the ceiling height over the dining room, granting just enough height for a legal (and maybe even usable) room above? This was a prospect most beautiful and dazzling to our entire romantic, space-starved family. In fact, the idea captured our hearts, but also made its discussion the more stressful. Some considered the idea just romantic, wishful, impractical thinking; most thought it wonderful and didn't really care about practical details as they essentially weren't their problem; others thought it a great idea and overflowed with creative ways to make it work (some of which were cause for some anxiety). The main problem with the attic idea was the necessity of access - ie, a staircase - and the distinct lack of floorspace. A spiral staircase was the most popular suggestion, but then where on earth would we put it? Put it underneath the attic and there would hardly be any floorspace upstairs; put it out in the lounge and it would majorly interrupt traffic flow and visual continuity. As principles, practicalities and personal wishes mixed within the key players, stresses mounted with each discussion. But gradually we worked it through and some decisions came to be made.

Firstly, we decided to scrap the cathedral ceiling idea and instead lower the ceiling to about the height of the top of (what was then) the current doorway beam. (See photo above.)

Secondly, we decided to frame the extended dining room (which would include all the previous bathroom area except the toilet room) with post and beams, helping to delineate that area as separate from the lounge and kitchen. This post and beam theme would also be used in framing doorways between the lounge room and other areas.

Thirdly, we decided to level off the floor surface of the dining/old bathroom area, transforming it into one room.

Fourthly and finally we decided to build in an attic above the dining room, accessed by a winding staircase to be installed at the end of the dining room, a space at that time occupied by the kitchen doorway. The kitchen/bedroom-to-be would subsequently be accessed through a door set in under the stairs (the family rejoices once more - are we not sad creatures?).

So there you go. Now you know how some of our most momentous decisions were made and a little bit about why they were made. Hopefully it makes some sense. Make sure you comment if it doesn't because I have many more posts ahead, and thus many more opportunities to explain things.

Well, we may not yet have decided one way or another where the kitchen was or wasn't to be, but fiberglass fibers from old ceiling insulation still needed to be blocked off from the air we breathed, walls still needed to be plasterboarded and the ceiling support issue had to be resolved. The renovation went on.

The most important job was keeping the ceiling propped up. I'm sure you can imagine why. The second most important thing was sealing off the ceiling - with spare sisalation in the bathroom area and black plastic in the dining room. The black plastic had already been up but was now replaced temporarily. The usual unhealthy effects attributed to breathing fiberglass fibers and dust would have been worse in a family containing at least three asthmatics.

The view from the kitchen toward where the bathroom had been can be seen above. The books and various paraphanalia that the dinner table is bearing up under was all mostly cleared off the as-yet-unmoved crockery cabinet that can be espied in the distance.

In this photo (above), we have begun cutting the second-hand gyprock to fit the wall we are facing. As neither Dad nor I enjoy this job, I'm afraid we weren't very cheerful. 

 

However, we got through it. And it looks good when done. At least, it does after living with black plastic for months, I assure you.

It is surprising how easily one becomes used to the look and doesn't notice it after a while. Until, that is, one entertains visitors and notices with re-sensitized eyes the eyesore it really is. Not that we left our walls unplastered and unpainted out of laziness or choice, but lack of resources and time did mean that we lived with this state of affairs for some time.

Next morning (after the events documented in the previous post), Slick removed the plumbing and began to take down the wall. Porch/dining area and bathroom were about to become one.

Isn't the morning sunlight flooding through that window glorious? It was especially so to us, having used that room almost entirely by artificial light for most of the past eighteen months. Below, at the beginning of Day 3, Alick can be seen sweeping the floor after Slick had taken down the plywood wall. In the photo on the right, if you look through the wall frame, through the dining room and past the fridge, you can see Llick in the kitchen. Since we closed off the original entry into the kitchen by putting in the new bathroom, we had to make that opening through to the kitchen. It was much more convenient for transferring food onto the table, however.

 

  In the above photo, the last piece of gyprock is coming down, opening up what was the bathroom to the lounge area. As you can see on the left, nobody has yet worked up the energy to empty and move the crockery cabinet.

 

You will see in the above photos that Slick is opening up the toilet room, too. The toilet,as seen on the right, is no more. Its stained ugliness dictated a swift and effective end. Somebody had fun.

 

 Ah, never say we don't have fun - every now and again. This piece is obviously part of the ceiling, which was destined - one way or another - to change. At this stage we were still undecided whether to create a cathedral ceiling over the dining room, or somehow fit in a little attic. If fact, we were also playing with the idea of putting the new kitchen in this bathroom/toilet area - a new idea for us. Up to this point, we had been planning on putting the new kitchen in the big room on the south east corner of the house; however, council regulations had made things complicated. We had by this stage discovered that, unless we spent the large, precious quantities of money and time necessary to lodge a development application, we could only put bathrooms and kitchens in areas that contained existing plumbing. We got away with moving our bathroom because it was put in the kitchen; we now knew we would be able to legally move our kitchen, as long as we put it where the bathroom had been. The question now was, How can we fit within the council regulations and at the same time make this work for us within the plan of the house? How can we put the kitchen where the bathroom was, yet make it an efficient and usable space?

 

As you can see, the space was not large. Not for a kitchen for a family of nine. If you also look back up at the photo taken from the lounge room and imagine the pink room beyond as another living room, it will become obvious that putting the kitchen in where the bathroom had been would also create a bottleneck between one half of the public living space and the next. All these things and more we pondered in between our progressive deconstruction of the old bathroom. To discover our eventual resolution of these issues, you'll have to wait on coming posts!

Soon after completing the new bathroom, we eagerly set to work on the demolition of our unusual old bathroom. This is the 'before' shot in all its glory:

Followed by a few 'during' shots: (Below: Unscrewing the corrugated plastic.)

 (Below: Observers.)

 

(Below: The window finally uncovered. We showered every day in front of that window!)

 

(Below: Day's end.)

 

The plywood had been put up temporarily to replace the asbestos that we took off right at the beginning - eighteen months earlier. It would soon come back down.

It was a joy to rip all this stuff out, I can heartily assure you. (Especially as I was the one who got to do most of the ripping, at this stage.) After agonizingly slow progress, negotiating endless obstacles, we had finally reached a stretch of open road and were determined to make the most of it while it lasted. Destruction is so much easier than construction. I'm sure that one is justified in adapting 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy' to 'All construction and no destruction makes Jack a burned out boy'! Normally I would object to such a saying, but in the renovation business deconstruction is part of going forward, and normally these stages are the fastest and, therefore, most stress-free. 'Forward' looks a lot like 'backward' sometimes!