Santa arrived Monday morning in the guise of three strapping young men, who marched into my house and started ripping up my carpeting. They were expected!
After 10 years walking on lovely white wall-to-wall, it wasn't so white any more. We did bring a chocolate lab into the mix and it's a open-plan house, so the main walkway is directly thru the living and dining rooms. I guess we are pretty lucky to have gotten 10 good years. We could have managed a couple more, but both of us were tired of the constant visits from the Rug Doctor to clean and spot.
So when we perched on Santa's knee back in late November, we whispered in his ear, "Please, Santa, may we have floors for Christmas?" [I have found over the years, that when you have a big request, you need to go to see him early, so that you get a good spot on his list - that one he checks twice.] And, he delivered. Well, those strapping young men did.
Three days of hammering and sawing and walking carefully on the plywood, and by Wednesday evening we were putting furniture back in place and re-hanging the pictures. Did you know that for new floors they ask you to take down your pictures? I guess they worry that those strapping young men will bump into something valuable.
We love it! We know it will be a little cooler on the feet, but it feels so good! And I love the look. We carried the wood into the kitchen, too - I have been assured that "modern floors" can take the spills and traffic there - so the whole house looks larger. [What is it about moving into a smaller house, and then wanting it to look larger?]
Thank you, Santa!
Gone, almost forgotten
21 hours ago