The story of the floor continues. The weekend work.
When last me met, it was Friday at midnight and I was reinforcing the big, gaping poltergeist of a hole in my foyer floor and popping homemade Ativans (mainly made up of pepperettes and baby aspirin). The story continues …
I received a visit from my floor refinisher who was scheduled to refinish my floors on Monday, which was in less than two days. He quickly took a look around and said NOPE. These aren’t ready to refinish. You need to get that patch repaired, you probably need to source a bunch of longer antique floor boards, the threshold is too uneven and thin to sand down and it you need to replace it. By Monday.
Me: O.K. I can do that.
Floor Refinisher: Um. O.K. Well, just in case you can’t, should we schedule another day?
Me: No. I think I can do that.
Floor Refinisher: O.K. but just in case you can’t I’m available to come back in a little over a week. Not that I don’t think you can finish all of this work, but … just in case.
Me: O.K. But I think I can do this.
Floor Refinisher: You’d have to work all day and night.
Me: Yeah. I think I can do this. Hey, do you think it’s O.K. to use cocaine while you’re on homemade Ativan? Nevermind, I’m just kidding. But do you happen to have any cocaine?
Clearly I jest. But not about having to work all day and night. Starting with my uneven threshold and trying to find antique floorboards that match my floors in the next few hours.
Cry. Start ripping out threshold.
Stare into second poltergeist hole in my house and mourn the fact I’m having to miss a big outdoor antique market today. Sister is at big outdoor antique market probably getting ready to eat french fries there. Receive text from sister at antique market. A picture of stacks of antique wood planks. Not tongue and groove. Not pine. Not the right width. Perfect! Buy ’em!!
Continue removing threshold with renewed vigour.
Finish building subfloor on hole into basement as I wait for sister to drop off antique boards.
Wake up drink coffee. Consider avoiding floor by taking emergency salsa dancing lessons.
Start cutting boards that sister dropped off yesterday down to size with circular saw. They are 6″ wide and I need them to be around 5″ wide. No table saw (besides I’m frightened of table saws) so I cut all of them using a circular saw and they cut beautifully.
Begin building new threshold. Glue and clamp fake “tongues” so nothing can fall down between straight edge boards. But more importantly so nothing can crawl or slither or hop up.
I attached the “tongue” by simply gluing and clamping it and leaving it for a few hours.
Lay next threshold board.
Take a little “me” time and enjoy part of my Sunday. By straightening antique nails.
Countersink nails so they don’t rip up the flooring guys’ sandpaper.
Continue cutting boards down to size for patch job.
Start putting together jigsaw puzzle of boards and cutting out more sections.
Finish laying boards into position.
Breath a sigh of relief. It’s done. I got it all completed. Without cocaine.
Realize I have NO nails to nail down the boards. At all. None. Text sister. She has nails. Drive to pick them up, come home, nail down the boards and try not to worry that some of the boards are so thick and warped that they sit about 1/4″ above the surrounding boards.
Decide there’s nothing I can do about it so I go to bed. Mainly because it’s the only room in the house that’s habitable and where my terrified cat has been hiding since this whole episode began.
Can’t. Even. Wait. For my floor refinisher to see that I’ve finished the job.
Fall asleep to the sound of angry disturbed centipedes plotting revenge.
To be continued … the sanders show up.
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