Pergo? What Pergo?

The floor situation is unchanged. Cheryl’s patience is not.

Weekend? What weekend?
I’m two days into the work week, and I can’t immediately recall what I did this weekend. It has been that kind of week (so far). The good news is it’s almost over. Thursday is a holiday and I’m taking Friday off. Woo hoo! The bad news? Do you remember what I said about the Pergo? Well, guess what I’ll be doing on my long, “holiday” weekend?

And then there’s the Pergo…

No new news on that front. The floor is still in the same, unfinished state, as when I last wrote here. Everywhere I turn, there’s a reminder that I haven’t finished – and then I leave the room and I put it behind me.

My life is my floor, revisited.

“We” continued to work on our master bedroom floor – all week. “We” are now mostly finished. I got as much as I need to get done to move back into our room, so I can envision stalling at this point for a little while. It’s a motivation thing. I am mostly pleased with the way it has come out so far, but the jury is still out on some of the molding work we have left. No, that’s a little misleading. The jury hasn’t even been selected yet. I have no firm plans for just how we’ll finish the job, something that makes Cheryl a little nervous. Alas, one day, before I pass from this earth, we will finish.

My floor is my life.

This week we answered the call. The call to tear out our floor and put in a new one ourselves. We should have told them it was a wrong number. First, we moved out of our bedroom. This was no big deal, I went to college – and so did my sisters. This has no relevance to my ability to move furniture (you would think that it would have taught me well enough so that I could pay someone else to do it for me). I only mention this because it gave me plenty of experience moving furniture: moving from home to the dorm, from the dorm to my first apartment, from my first apartment to a storage facility for the summer, from the storage facility to my second apartment – and on and on… Next came the fun part: pulling out the old floor. Carpet comes out really easily, but this is a fool’s paradise. What lays underneath is tack strips. If you live in Florida, this means that the tack strips are likely fastened down with nails driven into a concrete slab. If you don’t know anything about concrete let me tell you this, inch for inch it holds onto nails better than wood – a lot better. The first step in removing the tack strips involves prying up the wood strips. Nine times out of ten the nail head pulls down through the strip. The fun part is pulling out the nails. This involves a long pry bar and the weight of a full grown man. We applied the two in the obvious manner. The result is a suspenseful pause followed by a loud pop and a small, sharp projectile flying across the room. Actually laying down the new floor was kind of anticlimatic after flinging nails around the room.

We started on Friday night. It is Tuesday night. We are not finished with one room.

I don’t really have anything to add to that. Like I said, our floor has been our life.