Looks Good on Paper
But don't take my word for it -- take a look at the layouts they produced above. Click on an image to see it really BIG. And there's another service through Ikea, a contractor, who installs the whole thing for $100 per cabinet.
(click on any picture above to see it MUCH larger)
Just want to show the latest situation in the kitchen. Hard to tell it's even a kitchen yet, except for the makeshift sink in the middle of it all. The space is already brighter, in large part because of the (newly lowered) garden window. But also contributing to the light is the absence of wall between the kitchen and dining room. You can see in the picture on the left that Francisco's men erected a counter-height divider — evidence that I lost the battle for bar-height. Jim's victory there means more openness between the two rooms and probably more light in the kitchen, which is always a good thing.
We had Jeff, the Electrician Magician, in to soup up the electrical in the room. One fun thing about designing a kitchen from scratch is being able to add quirky details that you've always dreamed about. For me, it was a bank of outlets. I never feel like I have enough of them in the kitchen, and you need them for so many things: The blender, the mixer, the coffeemaker AND the espresso maker. The juicer (so what if we don't have one yet?) the toaster, and the list goes on. So I had Jeff put an outlet, like, every two feet.
Did I mention that it's been years since I had time to cook?
Just when I thought the kitchen couldn't get anymore gutted, I came home to find this: The entire wall between the kitchen and dining room GONE. And the garden window, which I had asked to be moved down has been removed and is now on the kitchen floor. It's progress, but the kind of progress that requires patience, because more trauma has been inflicted on the scene than had been previously and it just feels like forever before this monster job gets wrapped up.
This evening Jim and I ran errands at the mall. The Glendale Galleria to be exact. And while a part of me finds the place excessivly cringe-worthy due to its being the mall of my youth, (Let's face it. This is L.A. It's the mall I'm from.) It suddenly dawned on me that the mall is infinitely more pleasant than home. Especially for Poppy. There are wide expanses of carpeted flooring for her to run around (and fall down) on. No construction dust. No loose nails or shards of drywall. Climate controlled throughout. And multiple eat-in food options -- an essential for someone with no kitchen to go home to. At this point we don't even have a sink.
If it weren't for the temptation to shop, I'd move in.