Painting the Kitchen Cabinets
July 04, 2010, By Greg Hoard 2 comments
She was standing there in the middle of the room, arms folded, one hand touching her chin. After 25 years of marriage, the look was unmistakable. My wife was considering what she calls “a family project.”
The last project was redoing the master bathroom, a project she promised would not only increase the value of our home “but only take a couple of weeks.”
It took two months, 61 days of showers in the basement and on the second floor, eight weeks of not being able to find the shaving cream or a razor, days and days of moving toothbrushes from one sink to another. It was something like camping, but we saved a lot of money doing the job ourselves and the master bath is beautiful.
My wife is generally as accurate on results as she is wrong about how long a job will take.
“Look at how tired these cabinets are,” she says. “Do you realize we haven’t done anything but abuse them in the 18 years we have lived here? Let’s paint them! We’ll start tomorrow after work. Okay?”
The kids were just coming in from yard work. The boys are 22. My daughter is 17. They are veterans of the “family project.”
We exchanged a knowing look.
“Here we go,” Joe said.
“This means everything has to come out of the cabinets,” John said. “That’s a lot of stuff.”
“A lot of stuff,” Meg added. “How long do you think it will take?”
My wife thought for a moment. “If we work together, a week – tops!”
“We better start now,” Meg said.
Day One
We took everything out of the cabinets, stacking the dishes and pots and pans on the dining room table. When it was filled, we resorted to placing things on the floor of the dining room. That left foodstuff: cereals, soups, flour, sugar, canned goods – that kind of thing.
Next, we turned to the drawers. Silverware and cooking utensils were easy. The real problem came when we addressed the junk drawers. We have six filled with the random objects of our lives: heads that snapped off golf clubs, a small air pump for basketballs and footballs, bottle rockets from a long past Fourth of July celebration, a whistle, string, keys to unknown locks. This really slowed us down because everybody had to sign-off on what was to be pitched and what had to be kept.
After we had come to some form of compromise, we removed all the doors and all the hardware: hinges, handles and closures, and began cleaning the shelving. (It’s amazing how much stuff, how much dust and grime accumulates over time.)
When everything was clean and dry we started to sand. Since our cabinets are wood grain, we used fine grit sandpaper (150). The boys and I worked on the large surfaces. The girls took on the more tedious work, edges and corners.
Day Two
More sanding.
Dusting and sweeping.
More sanding.
This, we knew, was the most important part of the job, preparing the wood for the primer and insuring a good bond between the paint and the surface.
Day Three
More sanding. More dusting and sweeping.
We took all the doors and drawers outside to the carport and started applying the primer. Inside, we opened the windows and doors to insure good ventilation.
Day Four
Some things came up and we didn’t get anything done. In retrospect, this was probably a good thing since it gave the primer plenty of time to dry.
Day Five
We started painting, using fine brushes and applying a thin coat. The boys and I worked the large surfaces. The girls took on the fine work.
Day Six
We finished the first coat.
Day Seven
Started the second coat. Meg said: “It’s been a week and we are not done yet.”
“But we are close,” my wife said.
We weren’t close.
Day Eight
Finished the second coat and did some touch-up work.
Day Nine
Watched paint dry and re-addressed junk drawers. “Six is too many,” my wife declared. “Everybody pick out more stuff to throw away.”
Day Ten
Replaced everything in cabinets. Replaced doors and hardware. Admired the new look of the cabinets. “It changes the whole look of the kitchen,” my wife said. “And we were just three days over schedule.”
Day Eleven
She was standing in the dining room, arms folded, one hand touching her chin. “I was looking at these walls the other day when we were unloading the cabinets,” she said. “I think they need some work.”
The kids and I ran for the door. We’d had enough bonding for a while.
Greg Hoard is the senior writer and former editor of Cincinnati Profile magazine. He is a featured contributor to ManoftheHouse.com.
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