Small rooms, sharp decisions
Half the bathrooms in this town are small. The North End's 1920s craftsman homes treated the bathroom as an afterthought — one window, a clawfoot against the wall, a door that hits the sink. We remodel these rooms constantly, and honestly, we prefer them. A small bathroom punishes lazy layout decisions, and that keeps the work honest.
You can't push the walls out — so the wins come from what you put between them.
A 1926 bathroom is charming until the wall opens. Then it's galvanized supply lines, a drain sized for a sink from another century, framing that's more suggestion than structure, and zero insulation on the outside wall. None of that scares us and none of it should scare you — it just belongs in the plan and the contingency line, not in a surprise phone call halfway through.
We keep the character where it earns its place. Hex floors, period trim profiles, a console sink where storage isn't the priority — done right, a remodeled craftsman bath is worth real money in the North End.
Ventilation. Half the pre-war bathrooms we open have no fan at all — a window was the code of the day, and nobody opens a window in a Boise January. That's why the paint peels and the corners grow shadows. A proper fan, sized to the room and ducted outside (not into the attic, which we find more often than you'd hope), goes into every remodel we do, on a timer. It's the least glamorous line on the quote and the one that protects all the others.
Storage that isn't a cabinet. In a 5×7 there's nowhere to put a tower cabinet without eating the floor. So the storage goes into the walls: a recessed medicine cabinet sunk between studs, a shower niche sized for actual bottles, a drawer vanity instead of doors — drawers use the full depth, doors waste half of it. Towel hooks beat a bar in a small room; two people's towels fit where one bar used to fight.
A full-gut small bath is a real project — the room is small, but every trade in the house passes through it. Keeping the layout keeps the number sensible; moving the drain or stealing closet space pushes it up. The Boise cost guide walks through exactly what moves the money, and the written quote after a walkthrough is where you get your number.
Almost always, and it usually makes the room feel bigger, not smaller. A 32×48 shower with a low-profile glass panel where a clawfoot or alcove tub used to be is the single best move in a small Boise bathroom. The catch is drain and framing work, which is why the wet area drives the budget.
It can. If it's your only bathroom, we'll tell you straight that some buyers with small kids want one tub somewhere in the house. If you've got a second bath with a tub, convert away — walk-in showers win on this market's resale math.
The room is small but the trades in it are the same — plumbing, electrical, waterproofing, tile — so a full gut is a real project, not a weekend number. What you save versus a big bath is mostly material square footage, not labor complexity. The cost guide on this site explains what moves the number; the written quote after a walkthrough is where you get yours.
Because there's probably nothing in the exterior wall. North End and East End houses were built before wall insulation was standard, and the bathroom is usually on an outside corner. When walls are open during a remodel, insulating them costs very little and you'll feel it every January morning after.
Call (208) 247-7364 or describe the room — the vintage of the house tells us half of what we need before the visit.