The Console: Part 1 (The Bad News)
Some projects are effortless. A flurry of ideas swiftly edited into a tight vision, executed on budget, within a succinct time-table. Specifically, as this relates to DIY projects, for this to occur one must realistically acknowledge one's own DIY abilities and limitations. This is the moment where I must hang my head and admit I will most-likely forever fail in this regard.
After the initial walk-through with my clients Allen and Bethany one of the first areas I wanted to address was the space beneath their TV. All of their electronic components were nicely nestled out of the way in the adjacent built in shelving and their flatscreen was mounted. They didn't need a storage unit to house anything, but it felt off balance without a structure below to ground it all.
the problem
I had my heart set on a cobalt blue media console but to no surprise had no luck sourcing one. I also obsessively perused Craigslist hoping I'd stumble upon a mid century piece with good bones, the perfect measurements, but in a not-so-nice condition so I wouldn't feel guilty painting it. No luck.
the problematic solution
And here's where I got ahead of myself. Instead of altering the vision I decided that fate had forced my hand and the only option was for me to make the perfect media console for the space. The thing about DIY projects is when you finish one you sort of feel this brazen arrogance about your accomplishment and forget to acknowledge how glaring your inadequacies were made throughout the whole process. I do this EVERY TIME. I mean, who do I think I am? People spend entire careers perfecting the art of cabinet making. I am not a craftsman. Still, I went for it.
After googling "how to build a media console" I stumbled across a few plans that seemed relatively manageable. The two that most inflated my confidence and highly influenced the design were this one and this one. I thought, "I have a kreg jig! I can totally do this!" What I didn't have was a saw. So I drew a plan for each of the specific cuts that needed to be made on one sheet of 4x8' plywood and hoped some kind soul in the lumber department at Lowes would take pity on me. After a few hours working with the best and most patient employee I left with all the individual pieces necessary to put together the cabinet frame.
The cabinet went together relatively painlessly within a few hours. It was the doors that would be my eventual undoing.
making THe doors
I quickly measured the face frame area, divided by three, shaved off a few 1/8" here and there to account for door opening/closing etc. and went back to Lowes to get my doors cut. My haphazard approach to measuring for the doors was a big mistake, but I wouldn't know it for a while.
When I got home and temporarily placed the doors in front of the cabinet I let out a shriek of happiness because IT WAS PERFECT. I even had a momentary second thought about painting the console after all because it really was so pretty.
painting the cabinet
I then entered the painting phase of the project which was so much harder than it should have been. Maybe not hard, just time consuming, frustrating, and so boring as it stretched on an on. In the end I did three coats of primer and four of the top coat. But the doors and the base each had to be flipped over every time another coat went on so it was almost like 14 coats! Wake up put a coat on, come home from work flip doors put a coat on, day off put two more coats on, flip doors again, sand, coat, flip, sand, coat, flip...
attaching the doors
Then one beautiful day the sun came out, the painting was over, and it was time to attach the doors. But this, this is where all the sad and angry emoji faces belong. I followed the instructions, I measured carefully for my hinge placement, but no matter what I did I could not get the doors to hang correctly. I'd attach one, then the other wouldn't meet it. So I'd reposition one and then, bang, now they'd overlap and hit each other. Over and over, repositioning, more holes in the cabinet, different holes on the doors, so many choice words, and still nothing would work. So I thought, ok, it's because I'm trying to do this by myself. I just need another set of hands. The following day armed with reinforcements (Luke) I tried again. Nope. Same story. It turns out doors require meticulous measurements. I didn't have them. And finally I just had to call it.
I have no pictures of any of this because I was too busy internally raging, then subsequently panicking. Convinced I'd wasted all that time and money and would have nothing to show for it, I kept racking my brain trying to come up with different ways to salvage it. But I was in such a frenzy that no good or reasonable ideas would come. And that brings us up to real time. So this is where I'll leave you hanging on the edge of your seat, fretting, and biting your nails. What will she do??? The good news is I've got a plan, but since it's in the process of being executed it's still unclear whether it will actually work.