As the dappled yellow sun streamed into my small bathroom a few years ago, I had a vision of a luxurious retreat of tile and stone, a jetted tub with a mountain of soft white towels within easy reach while gleaming fixtures winkled at me as if we shared an intimate secret. But when I blinked, the 1950's poor man's bathroom I had lived with for twelve year stared back with dumb linoleum silence, like I do when I stand in the middle of the plumbing section at a home improvement store.
I knew what I wanted, I had perused enough magazines, watched enough half hour shows on cable, but I had no idea how to turn my six by twelve foot water closet into a spa. So I did the only thing I could think of-I consulted the yellow pages.
I knew I couldn't do it myself. A few years ago I had tried to put in a tile floor in my kitchen with disastrous results, even after several trips to the store, the clerk only shook his head, with a look which said, "This is so easy, woman! Are you some type of idiot savant?"
So as my fingers did the walking they went straight to "Interior Decorating." With baited breath I quickly dialed and to my disappointment only got answering machines. After leaving half a dozen messages, promising a big job with more jobs to come, I waited. I only had one call me back, a wonderful woman named Michelle. She had a young, sweet, eager yet experienced voice. When she arrived, looked at the hole I reluctantly called a bathroom, and said, "What do you think about knocking down this wall and using this extra room to expand the bath?"
My heart leaped, my breath caught in my throat. I think I choked, "Of course, why not?"
Now my only experience with interior remodeling had to do with watching HGTV. As soon as Michelle's dad arrived with a garbage can and a sledge hammer, I had another vision-the mess would be gone in a day, and my new spa retreat would be ready to use. It wasn't. I learned patience comes with remodeling. So remember, problems will occur, so doen't flush your patience down the toilet
The secret in remodeling a small bathroom is space. I had an extra bedroom which I generally didn't use, hired a great decorator who had a great father/contractor and four months later had the bathroom I had envision, only better. It was longer, streamlined, with travertine tile and a marble bowl perched lightly in a niche which reminds me of the vanity my mother had a long time ago, with its antiqued oval mirror and a small checked skirt around its lip to hid my cleaning
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