A couple of years ago we did a complete revamp of our kitchen. Those in charge of the project did a splendid job and it still satisfies our souls just to gaze upon all that was done – cabinetry, appliances, sink and counter, back-splash and a superlative floor.
By this point, two years later, we have yet to grow weary of it. I just love going into the kitchen. I just look around and think: “dayum that’s nice.”
Of course it took a while and (it seemed) like it cost the GNP of Saudi Arabia, but we did it and, as indicated, remain happy that we did. Why stay in a house when a pivotal aspect of it distresses?
But it was (after much cost and effort) done and we were content.
Well, not entirely. We have a dazzling floor in the kitchen and front foyer. But, we still have the shit carpeting in the living room and hallway. There is a whole history of cat puke from a number of felines we have owned (and no longer do, mainly because they’re dead, and I am also highly allergic to them). This is their legacy to us, but really we’re not emotionally attached to their vomitus.
And there are unidentifiable ‘other’ stains about which I don’t want to speculate what they might be. And discolored bits, and sun-faded bits and so on and so forth.
Carpeting can also play host to legions of critters a person doesn’t want to think about; mites, carpet beetles, alien life forces that have taken up residence after a long journey through space and are now just mustering their energies to attract more of their kind so that they can rise up and kill us.
So what we are about to embark on is ripping up that aforementioned shit carpet and replacing it with an ‘engineered’ wood flooring. That means we have to move huge bookcases, furniture and an antique grandfather clock that is getting a bit rickety in the cabinet. But we’ll do it because: new floor.