Or, More Bang for the Buck
It helps to really hate your carpet, and have hated it for a really, really long time. When our living room carpet and I first met (twenty years ago), it was a simple case of dislike on my part. Over the years, dislike grew into antipathy. Antipathy grew into virulent hatred.
If it weren’t against laws of both state and common decency, I’d take the carpet we just tore out, throw it into a bonfire in the back yard and dance around it. Naked.
You will be spared pictures of that.
Instead, you get this. First, my hero, a manly man with power tools.
The first boards down. Oh, really – be still my heart. It is love, love, love.
And more love.
Working hard under watchful eyes:
(Are those stair railings a dead giveaway that this house was built in the seventies or what?)
We’re not there yet, but this is making me very very happy.
Why “more bang for the buck”? I’m thinking there are people that take their wood floors for granted. Ho hum. Not me. Who says you can’t buy love?