Bowl Lighting

When it was time to buy lights, Steve and I couldn't find anything we liked.  Our first inclination was recessed lighting, it's nice and subtle, meshing with the clean cabin feel.  But we soon found the idea wasn't practical, as any recessed light worth the hassle needs, like, five feet of space to hide in.  Okay, that's an exaggeration, but the point is our walls weren't thick enough, much to our dismay.  So we went back to searching for the perfect lights.  I found it unfortunate that when you type in 'cabin lighting' on google, the only result is a variety of antler chandeliers, and, well, I had a hard time getting into that.  What was fortunate is that I had a stroke of genius--not like the miniature clawfoot tub idea, but better, not to mention realistic. 

Actually... as I'm writing this, I just remembered it wasn't my idea at all, but a website I found about creating your own lights from wooden bowls.  Sad.  I just deflated my own tires.  Well okay, it may not be my idea, but I found it because I launched an extremly thorough investigation on wooden lamps, which should count for something.  So anyway, I went to Etsy.com (and if you don't know what it is you should start buying christmas gifts there asap) and bought a bunch of pretty bowls. 

The rest is pretty much history.  When the time came we used pendant lamp kits for the three hanging lights in our living room.  I made a small 'chandelier' with the same kits to hang in the bay window area.  Two (the least exciting) bowls have been banished to the lofts, I didn't bother taking pictures because they won't wow you anyway.  Two for the kitchen, one of those is my personal fav.  And the bathroom light as an afterthought, obviously I didn't use wood, that would clash, so we went simple. 

Behold, and be amazed!

Kitchen Light

The other kitchen light.  My Favorite.

The living room lights.

 

Bay Window Light

Bathroom Light

The Pretty Innards

With the outside of the house all but done it was time to focus on the inside again, namely on shelving, closets, counters, and cabinets.  Building these was extremly satisfying, much like when we did the house's frame, but the project was not without frustration...  After borrowing a truck and hauling the large sheets of fancy-shmancy plywood home we realized (after a few hours of trying) that we couldn't cut it.  The wood was too large and unwieldly for the table saw, while the skil saw didn't cut in clean, straight lines, and the jig saw didn't have the power, puttering out early on.  We know because we tried them all, and then tried them again when we thought we were clever enough to come up with a new scheme.  Well, we weren't, and nothing worked.  So we had to borrow the truck again, drive the sheets back to Lowes where they used a giant robot thing to cut our wood and show us the stupidity of our stuborness in not coming sooner, which was mostly my fault because Steve offered the solution but I said no.  Moral of the story--'Don't try this at home kids.'  But after that things were chugging right along, and we assemebled our shelves in no time.

Shelves

After screwing the shelves snugly in place it was time to add the closet.  I don't really need to wax poetic about this, aside from introducing the next pictures, there's not much to say.  The next pictures:

  

So we built the frame, next we just had to add the doors, which we made from the supplies we had available--wall panels, molding, and wood screws.  It took a little coaxing, but turned out surprisingly well. 

Closet

As you can see, we added rods in both the top and bottom closet, and finished things off by including a removable partition between the two.  See:

Out.

In.

So the shelves are done, the closet is finished, all secured in place, the next thing to do is build the loft shelves.  I like building squares and rectangles, it might sound elementary, but it's true.  Anytime you add triangles, with all their odd angles, to the mix you're asking for trouble.  So, as you might have guessed, the loft shelving became a two day affair.  But as always, we shlogged along until we finished. 

Loft Shelving.

 I've seen variations on the next part, but Steve and I (well, I) decided that instead of filling the space between the kitchen and living room with mirrored, shallow shelves, we'd replace one side with a ladder.  Building the ladder was no picnic, lots of angles, making the shelf look like a breeze in comparison.  Pictures below.

Ladder

Shallow Shelves

Here is a picture of the finished product.  The shelves and closet finished, loft shelving covered over, and the ladder and shelf screwed in place.

The biggest obstacle when working in the kitchen is thinking out our measurements in advance.  For example, we have to build the frames so they meet just so, taking into account our fridge measurements, the windows and range, how far our countertop should hang over, the additional width of the plywood, and on top of all that, avoiding pipes and the like.  

But after all that was sorted out it was a breeze, that is, until we ran out of plywood.  It was then a question of buy a whole new sheet for nearly 50 dollars, or substitute.  Well, if the wood doesn't quite match around the fridge, you know why.

The countertops are just pieces of wood we bought from the hardware store.  The one above the fridge is pale and thick, we intend to rub some butcherblock oil on it and call it done.  The other, not so pale and thick, but a rather hideous shade of yellow, will be covered over with stainless steel, so just ignore it for now. 

The cabinet doors are made the same way as the closet's, the last and final touch.  Ta-da!

Staining in the Rain

Staining--brought to you in part by the Evans'.  With the help of Steve's parents we managed to knock out this project in one weekend.  It was overcast and gloomy, the rain threatening our progress, but luckily we finished before it started to pour.  Though pour it did, and then we had to worry that it had ruined our work, though it didn't. 
So anywho, here are the pictures to follow our progress:

Wash

Rinse

Repeat



Stain

 This stain is only meant to protect the wood, there is little to no color added.  We tried to keep the cedar looking natural.  Here's the finished product:

All dried

A Facelift

It's cold! Perhaps not a proper winter by most standards, or even Georgia standards, but it's still cold.  We decided to refocus are attention outdoors, finishing up the last few cosmetic projects while there were a few warm days remaining.  Steve's dad, John, helped out, putting on... I guess I'll call them corner caps?

Corner Caps

See the red line of roofing steel that covers the fascia board?  Me and Steve did that.

Back Roof Cap

We also put in some cedar boards above the porch.

Above porch.

And a different sort of cedar near the bottom.

Below porch.

Steve and I happened across a cedar beam on sale a while back, and though it's a bit simple, we remain quite impressed with the find.  So we finally got to install that porch beam thingy.

Porch Beam

John put the fascia boards up, or back up I should say.  He went through the hassle way back when, but we had to remove all trim to put siding up behind.  But they're back now, wrapping around the house and quite pretty! La.

Trim

And that's all for now folks.  I know, admittedly not one of my most interesting entries... I'll try to be more impressive next time.

A Biting-off-more-than-you-can-chew Bathroom

The bathroom has taken on a personality of her own--demanding, high-maintenance, but beautiful.  I can't say that I'm not pleased with the outcome, but like most things me and Steve decide, we always seem to jump in head first, which is probably better, because if I've learned anything about a tiny house, it's this:  If you knew the effort required for each project, you would give up before you even started.  So... Steve and I decided we might like to tile our bathroom.  Actually, before that, what we really wanted was a bathtub.  I personally spent hours looking for the world's smallest claw-foot tub online (I just needed one), while Steve quickly discovered the Japanese ofuro, a tiny soaking bath which actually exists.  You can have ofuros custom made, very pretty, but they can be quite pricey.  So that's when we started thinking tile.  If you are going through the same dilemma, please note--tiling was not cheaper than the ofuro option.
So welcome to hell, your tour begins with the vapor barrier.  You can use whatever, as long as it is vapor proof...obviously.  We went with tar paper.  If you're smart you'll install it in overlapping horizontal sheets.  We weren't smart, you can see for yourself.

The tar paper vapor barrier.

After literally wrestling with the tar paper for hours, we ran out just before we finished, needing like, a square foot's worth.  So we stopped, unable to continue, and ran to the nearest hardware store.  Shla.  We do this every other day, and that's not an exaggeration.  And after buying a gigantic roll of sticky black paper (which will likely rot in the garage forever) we finished the vapor barrier.
After that we put in a Noble pro-slope, just a cardboard and foam doohickey that directs water toward the drain.

Noble pro-slope

The next step I don't have pictures for, so just use your imagination.  You get this really thick plastic stuff to line the shower pan.  I don't remember the name of it, but I watched a video on the installation, and the material is so a-mazing it can practically cure cancer  and keep water from seeping through the shower and corrupting the wood beneath, just on the off chance that it got past the tile, grout, thin-set mortar and cement...  Overkill?  Don't question it, just follow the rules.
Hardie Backer board comes next, or some alternative if you like.  We didn't have too many problems with it, though just touching it was awful.  It sucks the moisture from your skin and kicks up the worst tasting powder when cut.

Hardie board

We used Hardie board on the floor too, but screwed it in place (using special screws) only after laying down some thin-set mortar.  Then, using cement and chicken wire, we made the shower floor.  If I could have a do-over, this is where I'd use it.  The cement and chicken wire didn't lay flat and even, undoing the whole point of the pro-slope.  I'm scared that puddles will form, but I may be overreacting, we'll see.

shower

Using tape that resembles miniature chicken wire and thin-set we filled in all the corners and any gaps so that the tile would have a nice smooth surface to adhere to.

thin-set

And then the tiling began.  We found out that I'm more adept with cement and mortar type products (finally something I'm better at than Steve) so I did most of that, though Steve waited with a sponge to touch up here an there, something we didn't take seriously enough.  Cleaning around the tiles after everything has dried requires something like acid--seriously--and it's not fun.

tiling

We tiled everything--the floor, the walls, even the ceiling.  A gas station bathroom was the inspiration.  I had liked how the floor tiles continued up the walls, it felt like being in a box... in a good way.  So that's what we did.  It sure made everything heavier, and a lot more expensive.  So it's good that we reinforced the trailer, and it's also good that we didn't calculate costs before we started, or we might not have gone down the road-less-traveled.  And as I said before, I'm pleased with how it turned out.  By the time we were ready to grout, both Steve and I were half in love with our troublesome bathroom.
Compared to everything else, grouting was a breeze.  I finished in no time, and when it was fully dried, I sealed over everything, and that was that...

A tiled shower.

Where the toilet goes.

White Pine Walls

The walls are up.  We used simple tongue and groove White Pine, which you can buy at any Home Depot or Lowes. 

It didn't take long to put up the paneling, partly because we cut a few corners.  Well, really just the one.  Unlike the Cedar siding and floorboards, we didn't stagger.  Meaning that entire wall sections begin and end on one stud.  While this made for quick measuring and cutting, it also meant we have very visible wall seams.  But after studying Jay's fencl ( http://tinyhousejournal.com/jays-shafers-fencl/ ) and that of my predecessors, I'm pretty sure that this is common and easily hidden away under a strip of wood.  Since our house is longer it has more seams, but I'm sure we'll manage to make things look nice when it comes time to put up trim and such.

Obviously we spent some time cutting around windows and pipes...

And really annoying rafters...

Though Steve did all that, but hey, I did take the pictures.