D.I.Y. Budget Bathroom Makeover: Part 2

In this post we're putting it all back together, basically.

James roughed in all the new/relocated plumbing fixtures.

He added the required venting and drain pipes. At this point the plumbing inspector was called and, once he finished his eggs (we got him at home), he stopped by. We passed our plumbing inspection, phew. The dogs approved highly of this "plumber"* and did their part by wiggling and schmoozing throughout the inspection. An especially enthusiastic Pippi disgraced herself/us by leaping into the air to deliver a lick to his lips on his way out. Thank you, dogs, for your efforts...for your impassioned, clumsy diplomacy. But thanks mostly to James' good work. (*See earlier post re: all visiting tradesmen/officials labeled 'plumbers': http://wildathomeblog.blogspot.com/2016/04/tips-for-calmer-pets-during-omg.html)

Vent pipes in...

The shower got two coats of Red Guard.

With the inspection passed, we could start rebuilding the room. Earlier we'd bought some floor boards from a retired gent who salvages entire buildings solo, using hand tools, and stores everything in his yard. Our floor came out of an old cannery. Since there were two colors, I decided to go with stripes. Because they are making up a bathroom floor, I varnished the crud out of all sides of these boards (using Varathane for floors), James got the ends as he installed, and we'll give them another coat or two after installation. Our walls are cedar--the same cedar we'll use in the shower. We got these boards from a guy who makes store displays, baskets, etc. He doesn't need the better boards, so sells them on. Technically they were surplus rather than salvage. We found these purveyors of well-priced timber on Craigslist and Uncle Henry's, respectively.

Skirting board + salvaged floor. (I painted the border grey because we had more red/brown than grey, and to make it sharper
than the more weathered, arguably character-filled center boards. Fret not, that big chip will be hidden under the tub.)

The walls going in: I started painting them pre-installation, then decided that was pointless.

We had to tear out the ceiling to put in the exhaust fan and plumbing vent pipes. This was a good excuse to go with a tin ceiling. (This is where I confess we are not going for a rock-bottom budget here. I think what we've come to aim for is a reasonably affordable fancy-ish bathroom. Budget is a major factor, but aesthetics reign supreme.) I got possibly a little carried away and went with a design based on an old schoolhouse from American Tin Ceilings. I love a tin ceiling that leads your eye around various patterns flowing from tile to tile. These are a bit bigger than I thought they were, which is just a case of me being a tad dopey when I looked at the website. I kind of wish they were smaller, but I think they'll tie in better with a coat of matte paint (right now they are primed and painted with Rustoleum metal paint).

Plywood ceiling up...

Tin ceiling tiles installed and awaiting final paint job.

The fixtures are prepped and waiting in the wings. These photos touch on just how maddeningly cluttered the workshop has been throughout this project:

Sink, tub, heater, medicine cabinets, clutter, etc.

The medicine cabinet, found at an auction for around $80: an old end cabinet once turned into gun rack, that
I've now turned into a medicine cabinet with the addition of a painted red cross and shelves. I got 29 cigar boxes
and one vintage tin at the same auction for $35...Yup, now I'm just bragging and reveling/salivating over
my finds like a typical bargain hunter.

As for Pippi, seasoned apprentice...

Pips uncharacteristically sat out this phase of the project. She did not approve of the nail gun, and there was
 no swaying her. Here she is eyeing it suspiciously while a headless teddy provides back-up/moral support.

...And here she has decided unequivocally that the nail gun is 100% bad news, and she must seek refuge under the desk with the renovation dust, making this face. She's from the Bronx originally, and her reaction led us to wonder where she's seen a gun before and formed this impression: in the inner city, or whilst sneaking off to tear through the Maine woods (equally likely). I mean, this is a dog who climbs icy ladders and leaps into moving UPS trucks if given half a chance. Sitting Under Desk is usually reserved for when her people argue. (We're a couple spending oodles of time together fussing over a lengthy renovation project. It's/we're going well, but I'm not going to pretend we don't cross wires from time to time, thus leading our dogs to make the above face, alas.)