People often buy old houses because they love the quality materials and period details. Fixtures, doors, trim, and hardware can all serve as selling points as one considers buying an older home. From that perspective, efforts to update an older house are often viewed as harmful, especially when the remodeling work can't be reversed. Countless French windows, pocket doors, swinging doors, light fixtures, mantels, tiles, and trim have been lost to time in the name of modern "upgrades". The saying "It's only original once" speaks to the precarity of maintaining a house in its initial state.
The plumbers had no fun rebuilding the frozen handles for us, and less still installing it. Still, they managed the work with plumber's grace and minimal swearing.
Finally, because I always like to close out these updates with a picture of the grounds, here's a mama deer walking through our side yard on a sunny summer morning.
Still, in the history of any 100 year old house, remodeling happens. It's a rare house that can remain completely unmolested over decades and generations. And sometimes, as we discovered at the Akron almost-mansion, the remodeling efforts become part of the house's story. That's what we found in the pink, first floor powder room.
The almost-mansion was built in 1925. So, it's easy to imagine that by 1960 the first floor half-bath was probably due for a refresh. Maybe there was water damage. Maybe there was a plumbing emergency. Maybe it just looked dated. Maybe someone was bored. Whatever the case, changes were made; changes that involved removing the original fixtures and tile and installing pink wall tile with seahorse and starburst motifs.
At some point the toilet and sink must have been replaced again too, but the pink tile remained such that when we bought the house the bathroom looked like this.
At that point the choice for us was to either a) demolish the bathroom completely and build one in the style of our choosing, b) demolish the bathroom completely and attempt to recreate a period appropriate 1925 powder room, or c) honor the spirit and intention of 1960 remodel, accept it as part of the home's story, and run with it.
We chose C.
That meant procuring a pink sink with some mid-century vibes to replace the 1980s era sink and cabinet above. Fortunately Columbus Architectural Salvage had exactly what we needed, and this pink sink turned out to be one of the first things we bought for the house.
The plumbers had no fun rebuilding the frozen handles for us, and less still installing it. Still, they managed the work with plumber's grace and minimal swearing.
The 1960 remodel also saw us being one of the few people to purchase a pink toilet from Kohler. (Kohler in this case being the only current manufacturer of pink toilets, and then, just barely). I remain convinced that our unit was made to order as it took close to four months to get in and ultimately came in two separate deliveries (tank first, and then bowl). For the record, Kohler calls the color Peachblow and it apparently made its debut in 1934.
With toilet and sink installed, the powder room now approximated what it might have looked like when some previous owner had made their updates.
Of course we didn't stop there. Knowing that the house was built by the Akron wallpaper and linoleum magnate W.D. Turner we thought wallpaper would be a fitting addition for that room. Keeping with the ocean theme of the tile, as well as our own commitment to color and whimsy, we chose this paper:
Bold? Sure, but what's the fun of remodeling a house if you can't make a few choices that might leave the next owners scratching (or shaking) their heads. God knows we done our share of head scratching (and shaking).
Put it all together then, and you get this nod to what someone might have wanted when they remodelded a 1925 bathroom in 1960:
We still have to paint the radiator, and at some point I want to upgrade to a chrome p trap for the sink. Those bits not withstanding, I'm happy with the results and look forward to answering questions and comments when we're entertaining company.
Finally, because I always like to close out these updates with a picture of the grounds, here's a mama deer walking through our side yard on a sunny summer morning.
She had a baby close behind, and we're thinking they live somewhere in the vicinity as we've seen them quite a bit lately.
On that note, I have to acknowledge that our encounters with nature here have often been closer than I was expecting. I guess I thought nature at this house would be something I'd enjoy at a distance or watch like a television, but it's not that at all. Our west boundary abuts Cascade Valley Metro Park, and nature here can get up close and personal in ways I hadn't anticipated. It's not bad, but it has involved a kind of mental recalibration on my part that I need to work through. Ultimately it's a good reminder that living with nature is a thing we have to do.
Comments
Post a Comment