Gutting a kitchen in a per-war building in Manhattan is not for the faint-hearted and it helps that I have a husband who is handy. The new floor is done. For the abbreviated saga, go here. Part of the problem is the tendency of contractors to promise the world, demand astronomical fees and then disappear into outer space. I've been managing this myself and have an electrician and a plumber who know the building and have the super's approval. Here's a photo of the spacers between the new tiles. Eerie.