I know I mentioned that we were starting from the bottom up when it came to our kitchen remodel, as in starting with the underfloor heating and slate tiles. However, there may just be a slight change of plans there.
I can’t actually express to you how exciting this little find for us was.
Now I was going to type something about getting excited about 9 inches. Yeah. Then I realised how umm… sorted that sounded. I mean, you don’t come here for filth do you? You come here for a bit of inspiration (I hope) and to find out what we are working on and to hear me waffle about the weird things that go through my head sometimes. But yeah, get your mind out of the gutter… we’re not talking about THOSE kinds of inches. This is not that kind of blog.
We are talking about these ones…
Room height inches.
Kitchen ceiling inches to be precise.
When it comes to inches, the more, in my book, the merrier and size really DOES matter. (I know, more penis jokes. I can only apologise. I’m actually only 13 years old in my head.)
I have always had a real thing for high ceilings. It was one of the reasons that a Victorian or Edwardian house was high on the list of priorities when we were looking at houses because they tend to come with glorious room heights (our house, built in 1906, would be considered Edwardian). To put it in perspective, when I moved to Manchester and into W’s “new build” home, the ceilings there were, shall we say, diminutive at just 7ft tall. Having lived in a Victorian flat with 11ft ceilings previous to this move, it was a slight shock. I felt like I had moved into a cave (albeit with a very sexy caveman but that’s not my point). Modern build houses in Britain have a lot to answer for.
Happily, we’ve got lovely 9ft 2″ ceilings in almost every room in our home except for two: the bathroom (which needs a complete overhaul eventually) and the kitchen.
I was sat in the dining room the other day, clicking away on my laptop as I am want to do and I looked at the difference between the ceiling heights in the kitchen and the dining room.
It was very hard not to notice the huge difference between them. I brought it up to W. “Why do you think it would be like that?” He pulled out our trusty tape measure. Indeed, there was a difference of 12″.
We started doing a little poking around. He pulled out one of the spotlights and using a flashlight, peered inside the space above it. I could see from the light of the torch, another ceiling above it through the little hole.
It wasn’t a massive difference, mind you. It wasn’t quite the height of the dining room. But there was definitely space. We stuck the measuring tape inside – a whole 9″ sat above a false ceiling conspicuously, doing seemingly nothing.
I looked at him tentatively and in my mind, a thousand thoughts swirled around my head. We could have higher ceilings in here. And rip out all that ugly spot lighting. And I could have pendants. And maybe even more open shelving. And, and, and…
“It’s a lot of work, isn’t it?” I tried to sound nonchalant. I tried to hide my excitement.
W knew my mind was in overdrive. “Yes, it’s a lot of work. And it’d be a mess as well.” He continued poking the torch around at different angles, trying to get a better view of what was actually up there.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment.
I needed to accept the ceilings as they were. That our little treasure would remain hidden and unseen. That it was too much work to take an entire ceiling down. Too much mess. I mean, we didn’t even know what we were going to find if we started ripping it down.
W looked down at me, still precariously balancing on the top of our little stepladder. “We have to do it.”
“Really?” I smiled.
“We can’t not.”
I think I might possibly have squealed and jumped up and down and maybe even clapped my hands like an excited child.
Sooooo…. here’s the problem. Well, you didn’t expect this to be EASY now, did you?
The ceiling lying above our drop ceiling is covered in artex. Like properly swirly lets-get-jiggy-70’s-stylee artex with thick jagged bits that come at you like so much gnashing teeth. We’re going to have to figure out how to rectify that.
I also thought I had more time to choose my lighting but I’ve practically had to wrestle the mallet out of W’s hand, he’s so eager to start tearing the kitchen to bits (what is it with men and the need to destroy stuff?). When we take down the ceiling, we lose the spot lights so something needs to go in its place fairly quickly. I’ve got a few ideas for lighting swirling through my mind so I’ll come to that in another post.
In the meantime, the kitchen will get a big hole cut into it this weekend so that we can get a better look at what awaits us. Fingers crossed it doesn’t look like this… (Go on and click that link but don’t say I didn’t warn you.)
My apologies for the night time pictures. This is unfortunately the result of blogging at night.