Something Old, Something New…

Not since my worst production quality crisis at Kodak had I experienced such tightness in the chest. At least Day One was over. Our family of four huddled together in the Wendy House to eat quiche, baked potatoes and salad. This had been artfully put together by Jane in our makeshift ‘kitchen’, the remaining, tiny corner of our besieged dining room.

The previous afternoon, we’d cleared our garage, emptied our kitchen cupboards and created as much space as possible to prepare for the onslaught. Likewise, we’d moved the dining table to one side to accommodate more kitchen units. But that morning, at 10 a.m., a huge Howdens lorry pulled onto our drive and disgorged its contents. “Surely this isn’t all for me?” I protested. Oh yes it was. We got it inside by stacking to the ceiling (note).

At lunchtime, a lorry arrived with the two skips I’d ordered, one for timber, the other for everything else. Our kitchen fitter Tony, and the skip guy, persuaded me we only needed one, as apparently they segregate the different materials when it gets emptied. They thought the mini-skip would be sufficient so this was left in what seemed a convenient position at the back of the drive.

By the end of Day 1, Tony had pulled all our cupboards off the wall and brought out our old appliances which sat obediently in the drive. He carefully removed the metal handles from the doors which he then stacked neatly in the skip. On Day 2 he got busy removing wall tiles, the clash of hammer to metal chisel chiming in with the whirr of electrician Steve’s masonry drill. I imagine that, if elephants had dentists, it would sound similar.  

The ensuing scene of devastation was indescribable. It seemed impossible to believe our kitchen could ever be restored to any semblance of order. A myriad of random electrical cables spewed out of a hole in the wall. But on Day 4, Tony began the process of installing units, and the mountain of furniture began to shrink. Then he asked, “John, I need to turn off your stopcock outside, so I can tidy up your plumbing.” Oops. I’m sure you can guess where it was.

After a rather embarrassing phone call, Myers Skip Hire said they’d come as soon as possible. Tony found other work to keep himself busy until the offending container, with the contents of our old kitchen, disappeared to reveal the stopcock cover. Ideally we’d have kept the skip longer, as there was masses of packaging to dispose of later. Thank goodness we only live half a mile from the tip… 

In our wisdom, we’d chosen Compact Laminate for our worktops. Tony said he could fabricate it to shape. Compact Laminate is made by impregnating a paper framework with resin. You would think it would be much easier to cut than granite or quartz. Round about Day 6, Tony set up his equipment in the drive and began work. I never realised how much precise machining a kitchen fitter needs to do, to create the template for the sink, hob and to make the joins. “I’ve never met anything so difficult to cut in all my life!” he said. “This is going to be the last kitchen I fit.” He didn’t sleep well that night.

The following day, his challenges were multiplied when it poured with rain. Since he’d made room by fitting many of the units stored in the garage, he used it as his workshop. Too late we realised that the grey dust from the machining process had settled everywhere, including on all the items we’d so carefully placed there! Even had we known, I’m not sure how effectively we could have protected our belongings…

But in the end, he succeeded with honours. We were very pleased with our choice of (Topps) tiles, which he fitted very neatly. Jane and I bought and fitted new roller blinds, had a vinyl floor laid on top of the old tiles, and bought a stool, kickstep and towel rail.

 There were a few trips to Howdens towards the end, dealing with some minor areas where their quantity surveying had gone a bit awry. The most serious of these was that they supplied a box of 23 door handles, of which 20 were exactly what we’d ordered, whereas the 3 on top were larger and different. Tony opened the box, drew out the larger handles, and assumed they were representative of the whole box. He cheerfully made a jig so he could prepare holes in all the doors to fit them. To his horror, he only realised the mistake when he’d already drilled some of the doors! The situation was saved after Jane walked in. “Ooh, don’t those large handles look nice!” she said.

Howdens easily replaced all the small handles for large. Phew…

Given the complexity of such a job, I think it surprising it went so smoothly, and we were impressed by Howdens’ willingness to straightaway sort out the bugs.

Whilst Jane and Helen organised the kitchen, I painstakingly cleaned the garage and its contents. We’re pleased with the end result, believe we got excellent value for money, and are very grateful to Tony and Steve for their craftsmanship and teamwork both with us and with each other.

Tony repeated, “This is going to be the last kitchen I fit…”. Then he added, with a grin, “for a while…”

It’s definitely our last fitted kitchen.

[Note: ‘Which?’, who rate Howdens highly, believe it’s much better if the units arrive ready made rather than being assembled from flatpacks by the fitter. But this vastly increases the space needed to store the units.]