(re-post)
There are holes in the walls. The house and I are delighted. In the daytime, light flirts and flows across living room and studio into the centrally-roomed, previously shaded kitchen. In the evening, the amber lights in that kitchen glow through the circles when viewed from the studio and living room and bathroom.
The holes under discussion vary from half-inch to eight inches in diameter.
In one section of the wall between studio and kitchen they are vertical in a pattern of a flower on a stem.
On another vertical they are stacks of O's to be interpreted as you will.
Horizontally, across the wall in a foot or so area below the ceiling, they are random bubbles.
Between hall and kitchen they are 'portholes'.
This is how and why they came about: with a thought to lightening the kitchen and curious about what was behind the paneling put up in a 50's renovation in this 1912 house - I removed the panelling.
A plaster wall was revealed. I removed it. Messy job. I was treated once more to the experience of gritty dust between teeth; up the nose I can understand but how does it become chewable?!
The look of the lath and plaster and two by four studs forming the backside of the wall in the next room charmed me in my tracks.
Here was the inner structure of the house, the skeleton, the unseen muscle holding it all up! It was quite gorgeous. But how to get it past the 'under construction' look? Past most people asking, "Well, what are you going to do with it now?" I needed something to tweak it to the admiration state that I was seeing.
Putting rustic shelves between the vertical 2x4's helped a lot - and provided a viewable space for viewable-worthy kitchen stuff. Removing the oozed plaster and leaving just what was between the lath furthered the eye appeal. Adding function to form seems to foster acceptability.
But it was the drawing of a flower pattern in chalk on the wallpaper in the studio and using a drill to cut appropriate-sized holes that evoked the "eureka!".
The small holes were not hard to make with regular drill bits. The discovery of spade drill bits and then a hole saw attachment for a drill were major cause for a skippy little dance around the kitchen.
It amazes me that so many answers in life require knowing the right questions. Having no idea that such marvels as spade bits and hole saw attachments existed, I send a grateful hug to my brother who, on the phone, once we got past his "You're poking holes in walls on purpose?" query, and my bemoaning the limits of my drill bits, mentioned spade bits. Then hole saws.
I can handle spade bits. Hole saw I cannot. I thought my elbows were going to pop out of their sockets when I tried. And my drill started to smoke which totally unnerved me. But I had managed to make a couple of holes this way and knew I wanted more.
A handyman was called. He'd "never done this before" (I seem to run across this response quite a lot) but was "willing to give it a shot."
The lath and plaster were a challenge for his serious drill and his manly muscles (the lath tended to 'bounce') but he persevered and skillfully cut the 'bubbles' across the top and the O's up and down. A medium file was used to even the edges of the holes and the new paint planned for the studio is expected to add the finishing look.
Then he tackled two salad plate-sized holes in the still panelled wall between kitchen and hall. The salad plate got used because he asked, "How big do you want these holes?" and I said, "Oh, about so big - " and made a circle with my hands and his eye lit on a salad plate on the counter which seemed to correspond.........
These were cut with a jig saw and I was fascinated by the technique he used to get the two holes on opposite sides of the wall to line up! (No, I cannot at this moment recall just how. Sigh. Selective memory. Consoling thought is that I could always call him up and ask.)
These holes, being thick, if you know what I mean, are now lined with a simple flashing strip, the amber kind, and this glows goldenly at certain times. The holes also provide light into the otherwise dim hall and give a far-reaching view from the bathroom out over the neighbours' gardens.
Being so very pleased with the result I have taken to strolling thoughtfully through the house and seeing the possibilities of more 'holes'. But that's for another chat. And a very good possibility of having to find another handyman. His drill didn't smoke but he did wear out several blades.
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