Tag: makeoverviacorona

Seriously?  You made it past that title?

Hey–if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a 1,000 times: infrastructure is sexy!

Let’s start with the laundry/appliance garage/butler’s pantry.  If you want the full 411 on the plans for this room, check out the Via Corona’s Secret Weapon post. Otherwise, here are the Cliffs Notes version.

Warning:  I had a heck of a time trying to photograph this room.  Size and light were not my friends.

The laundry room inhabits the space between the kitchen and the garage.

As the drawing shows, originally there was a door between the kitchen and the laundry with two steps down to the garage that took up the entire wall (Exit) going to the garage.

We moved the entryway to the garage and added a fire door because, you know, safety!  We also turned the hot water heater so that we could move access out of the laundry and into the garage (the original can be seen in the lower left of the plans above).  This bought us some more wall space.  Finally, we moved the washer and dryer outlets so that the appliances could be stacked.

New tile.  It sure was hard to give up that old linoleum.  This floor makes me chuckle.  We used a really great tile store called Cosmos for nearly all of our tile needs.  However, Cosmos is up in Hollywood and has normal business hours which means at least an hour’s drive and a weekend trip.  We got tired of doing that and so just went down to Home Depot and picked these out.  I love Home Depot.

The original plans included an actual door between the kitchen and this room.  However we had to lose it when the cabinetry guys realized we wouldn’t be able to open the ovens with the door frame.  Oops.  Like every place else in this house, the space is tight so losing the door opened things up.  It’s also great incentive to keep the space tidy.

As soon as the paint was dry on the baseboards, TD and I built the storage using Pax units from Ikea.  If you are playing along at home, the Via Corona Pax unit tally is currently at 10.  We’re pretty sure we’ve exceeded our lifetime allotment and would prefer to never have to build another one again.

When I originally mapped out the space, I knew fitting two of the 29″ units alongside the stacked washer and dryer was going to be a squeaker.  But, with some good math and a little luck, the three units fit side-by side with one-and-a-half inches to spare.  Smooth.

I organized the space so that all of the heavy small appliances could be pulled off the shelves at waist-level (for me).  This way I don’t have to pull-down or pick-up the heavier items like the standing mixer or food processor.  We also put the microwave in this space on a pull-out shelf.  There is more to the microwave story but TD won’t let me tell it because it makes him cry (let’s just say this isn’t the original microwave that we bought for the space).

The PAX units we’ve used are nearly 23 inches deep which allows for ample storage of serving platters, big bowls, footed dishes and my not insignificant collection of vases, hurricane lanterns, candles and such.  Please ignore the fact that they haven’t finished framing the door and sheet-rocking the walls on garage side.

The wall opposite houses our mail and communications command center.  The idea is to keep mail and lists out of sight.  The hooks below are for wet dishtowels (again, to keep them out of view) and below (not pictured) are the kitty dishes.  All the bits of blue tape are spots that need touch-ups.

I’m still playing with the organization of the room but its been pretty incredible to have everything in one place.

On to the linen closets.

Our last house did not have a linen closet.  This means I had linens and towels stashed all over the house like nuts.  Just call me old linen squirrel.  While it feels a little Betty Crocker, the prospect of a designated space for towels, sheets and blankets was embarassingly exciting to me.

Of the hundreds of photos I’ve taken, this was the “best” I could find of the linen closets in their original.  Some of you might recall, this is where, after we’d owned the place for a couple of weeks, we discovered a pair of men’s boxers.

And then TD tried to sell them.

At first we naively thought we’d just have the doors replaced but keep the existing structure.  Interestingly, it would have cost more to have new doors made than to replace the whole unit.

So out they went. Along with the carpet and low-ceilings.

The builder used four pre-fabricated linen cabinets with the doors oriented so that they look like two.

Rather than faking-out a wall above the installed cabinets, we left it open and added baskets for texture and more storage.  Those who know me won’t be surprised that I’ve decided those baskets are also most likely spider attractants and now I’m super scared to store things in them.

Movable shelves in the upper cabinets allowed me to customize fit for sheets and blankets.

While I’m pretty sure these babies could store the linens for an entire household, the master bath has its own storage.  Which leaves me with a couple of empty shelves.  I know, nature, especially in the form of storage, abhors a vacuum and sooner than I’d like, these cabinets will be filled.  But for now, they’re orderly and neat.

The drawers are genius–I mean the people who design these things must be experts or something.  I can actually fit my entire collection of pillow cases and shams organized by size.

I can’t believe I just said that out loud.

Lots of storage for cloth napkins as well.

Please don’t tell my mom I haven’t lined the drawers yet…she’ll report me to the WASP police.

Their fines are hefty and we need our last few pennies to finish up Via Corona.

 

For those who are unaware of our genesis story, TD and I met at a Halloween party.  I was dressed as a cat.  TD was a chicken.  And he was dressed as one.  We spoke briefly (apparently there was some interference from a guy in a diaper, but I don’t really remember that part) and the next week he asked me out.  There’s more to it than that but I’m trying to be brief in my nostalgia waxing.

For those of you who know him, you also know that roughly 75% of what comes out of Tom’s mouth is utter nonsense.  For example, on our first date during the “where did you come from and how did you get here” portion, he revealed that he’d gone to, and I quote, “SIU . . . The Harvard of the midwest.”  Oooo-kay.

He also showed me a video (yes…an actual VHS tape) of his Klement’s Sausage Race victory. That’s right, he invited me to his place, sat me down and had me watch him run around Milwaukee’s County Stadium dressed as 9-foot tall, lederhosen-clad bratwurst.  For those of you who read this blog regularly, you’ll know that we also went through the voting booklet cover to cover.    By the end of the first date it was pretty clear to me that he was either really funny…or really…special.

Turns out, he’s both.

But anyway.

(TD Here.  We have long disputed what did and didn’t happen on our controversial first date.  To wit, I have exactly ZERO recollection of showing the Sausage Race video in this instance – or where that videotape is now in case you want to relive the glory.  Not saying it didn’t happen, because it probably did.  I mean what better way to show the ladies your bona fides as a genuine American winning machine, am I right?)

In those early days I sometimes had a hard time telling when he was serious and when he was yanking my chain.  And while most of the time the joke was on me, occasionally, I’d misread the situation.

Enter New Edition.

So there we were.  Heading somewhere in his kickin’ bronzite Oldsmobile bravada.  He puts in a tape (yes…a tape) and in a blast of over-synthesized cacophony from the car speakers comes this:

I started laughing.  I seriously thought he was joking.

In my defense (though really, I don’t think I need one in this instance), I didn’t know who New Edition was.  By the time I was paying attention to music, the band formerly known as New Edition were known better as Bobby Brown the solo artist and Bel Biv Devoe.  Poison I got.  Mr Telephone Man?  Not so much.  And yet here was this 6’2″ white dude singing and car dancing to: “Candy Girl, you are my world, you look so sweet, you’re a special treat” way, way before carpool karaoke.

Dude loves him some New Edition.  Seventeen years later I’m still waiting for him to admit it’s a joke.  I probably wasn’t sensitive enough at the time to read whether I’d offended him.  Then again…New Edition…does it really matter?  Special indeed.

But anyway.

(TD again.  Allow me to say, without a hint of irony or sarcasm that there are two types of people in the world.  1.)  Those that like New Edition and 2.) Morons.  We will not debate this.  If you’re not at least tapping your toes by the time Ralph gets to “Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky & Mike, if I love the girl who cares who you like?” you are dead inside.  Dead I tell you.  Also, be sure to catch a 3-night television event, The New Edition Story Tuesday, January 24th at 9P/8C on BET!)

This was a very long and not very related introduction to Via Corona’s own new edition: the addition.  A few months ago, we shared the addition plans in a very general way.  But let us refresh your memory.

In the original space, the living and dining rooms were sort of kitty-corner to one-another.

(TD here.  The use of certain nonsense words and phrases like “irregardless” and “orientated” has always bothered me.  Don’t even get me started on “buck” vs. “butt naked”.   I was going to correct Shannon’s use of “kitty corner” in favor of “catty corner”, but I looked it up and it turns out she was right.  I guess you should expect a certain command of the language from someone holding a PhD from UCLA, but her correctness in this instance annoys me still. 

This expression, meaning “diagonally opposite,” was formed from a misspelling in English of the French word quatre (“four”) prefixed to “corner.” Although the word has nothing to do with cats or kittens, in various dialects all three spellings are acceptable: “catty,” “cater” or “kitty.”  Unless you have somebody holding your golf clubs permanently stationed in the corner of your room, you shouldn’t use the spelling “caddy corner.”  For the record, I’ve never heard anyone say “cater corner” but would instantly consider that person to be a psychopath.   Now, in the words of the estimable Casey Kasem, on with the countdown.)

As you can see from the schematic, a doorway separated the two making for a very undersized living area.

And an over-sized formal dining space.

So we decided to reconfigure the main living space by bumping out the space off of the living and dining rooms to make a kind of continuous L-shaped area.  We’ll have new 12-foot french doors off-of the bump-out leading to the deck.  What was the living room becomes a dining space (next to the bay-window), the new space becomes the living room and what was the dining room becomes a sitting room off of the kitchen.  Got that?  There will be a quiz.

Speaking of kitchens.  You’ve heard the drama about how long it took to get the permits for this just under 200 square foot edition.  So, we were pretty enthusiastic that that two days after we finally got this:

They started in on this:

That’s right folks.  As I type, I’m looking out through the Dexter-style plastic at a portion of the house currently secured by plywood and a couple of two-by fours.  The floor is open to the crawl space.  We’ve got no insulation and any man, woman, child or raccoon can just walk right in.  Sensing opportunity for adventure, the cats immediately started looking for gaps in the plastic through which to escape.  They found one pretty quick and had some serious cobweb-fueled adventures under the house.  They’re now on semi-permanent house arrest in the guest bedroom.

At this point, the foundation has been poured and they are currently working on replacing the old headers with new ones (hence all the scaffolding).  Official looking people have come through and inspected things.  It’s been very loud.  But, stuff is getting done.  We think.  If not, there are are 4 dudes presumably named Ronaldo, Roberto, Ricardo and Miguel who’ve killed about a week listening to a endless stream of tejano music and smack talking to one another in Spanish while not working on our house.

It should all be done by the end of February.  So, you know, May.

Which brings up an important question related to our new addition. If Via Corona were a band, who would she be?  Crowded House?  House of Pain? Bad Company?

Definitely not New Edition.

(Finally, not that anyone should have to defend an appreciation for the only boy band since the Jackson 5 that didn’t suck out loud, but allow me to point out that this freaking song was on a Now That’s What I Call Terrible Music! CD in Shannon’s car when we met.  If you make it through the first :30 without wanting to jam a meat thermometer in your ear, you’re likely someone who would say “cater corner”)

I knew that was coming.  It’s what he hangs on to whenever we talk about New Edition.  The year was 2000.  The Vitamin C song was on the Now That’s What I Call Music 5 compilation.  There were 17 other artists on the CD. Vitamin C was joined by  Third Eye Blind, Sonique, and Hanson  and he chooses to single-out Vitamin C?! She was the misdemeanor of my musical crimes at that point.

I think we’ve made it fairly clear that the photo above is basically Via Corona’s version of a mall glamour shot.  What you think you are seeing is a nice white house vaguely fashioned after the Colonial Revival school.

Up close is a different story.  Good from far.  Far from good.  Pull off the Barbara Walters soft-focus lens and what you thought was a peppy if not plain version of Ariel, The Little Mermaid is really Ursula in her many-tentacled glory.

That was before we literally took a jackhammer to Via Corona’s exterior.  In our attempt to save money, and thumb our noses at nearly every standing OSHA regulation, we created Ursula with cystic acne.  Or, if you’ve never seen The Little Mermaid, we fashioned ourselves a butterface.*

*Slang for “but her face” as in, “Via Corona has a nice body, butterface.”**

**Shannon isn’t so keen on this phrase.

For those unfamiliar with Colonial Revival, allow Yale’s Vincent Scully (no, not that Vin Scully) to summarize, “Colonial Revival got started during the Grant Administration, when America feels corrupted by Grant. There is nostalgia in it, and properly so, in the sense that once things were done better.  And out of it came some of the most important developments in American architecture, Frank Lloyd Wright and everybody else.”

Luckily, the scope of work includes a full makeover of Via Corona’s facade.  To be clear, this facelift is both Alpha and Omega on said list.  The hillbilly dirt patch we call a lawn?  The white tile walkway from Yanni’s beach retreat circa 1982?  The artisanal gravel thrown hither and yon?  No, no and no.  They will remain at least for the time being – just in case Yanni comes over.

Originally we thought we’d pull off the siding and replace it with new siding from top to bottom.  This is a pretty popular look in our neighborhood and we were digging it.

Alas, adding siding all the way down proved to be cost prohibitive (think a PhD from beauty school).  So, we pivoted to siding on the second story, stucco on the first.  Party on the top; business down below.

Luckily, this is also a popular look in our neighborhood (it’s Southern California–there is no continuity in housing style among neighborhoods).

Here is the Via Corona exterior task rundown:

• Replace upper siding with new, indestructible Hardie-board siding
• Pull off fake rock downstairs, replace with stucco across entire front of house and garage.
• Replace front door
• Replace all shutters
• Replace garage door
• Reframe windows and doors
• Power wash, patch and paint wall (sort of like lipstick on a pig but replacing that wall costs the same as a year in beauty school)

Via Corona is an architectural mash-up, like the Colonial Revival style itself.  What with its reliance on decorative crown pediments, fanlights, sidelights and symmetrical windows.  She’s also a little Cape Cod and a dash of Saltbox.  But mostly, she’s just rectangle.  As such, we are continuing with the theme.

The front and garage doors are a nod to the craftsman and shaker details we’ve got going on inside via the cabinetry, interior doors and trim.  We’re keeping the more traditional levered shutters but going straight top rather than cathedral (I love myself an arch but there isn’t a single one to be found anywhere else in the house).  All in black.  We’re also throwing in some other details in black via the lights and accessories that hint at the Beach Plantation style so popular in the South Bay right now.

To summarize we’ve got a white house with multiple textures and black details.  We’ll bring in more color later on when we landscape the yard (hint:  that color will be green).  I like to think of the sum of Via Corona’s parts as a sort of Contemporary Colonial Bungalow.  You know a: Concogalow.  

Yanni seems pleased.

NOTE:  I assure you, this is an actual Yanni quote.

Want more Via Corona?   Go here: Via Corona.