After seven months (seven months!) of plywood floors (and one with nasty smelly carpet) covering most of the house, we are finally finally finally walking on lovely smooth new floors. At least upstairs. In the den. Because the bedrooms aren't done yet.
But still!
Floors!
Downstairs we're still rocking the painted and sanded plywood. Which is fine. We've got all sorts of decisions to make (new woodstove or old, new wall heater or radiant flooring, what kind of hearth, what size of hearth....my head spins just thinking about it) before we can pick out and install flooring downstairs. Plus the sanding and painting of the downstairs plywood made it relatively smooth and presentable. But the upstairs plywood, blarg.
Halfway through installing it we looked around and realized that it's so shiny and smooth and new that it almost looks...fake. Or maybe it's just that in all the places and houses and lived in we've never had new flooring. Ever. Ever, ever. We've refinished old floors and lived with truly decrepit ones and even had nicely kept up old floors, but never had new ones. And it's really, really nice.
We've still got two more rooms to do and then the stairs before we're finished but I keep finding myself wanting to hangout up there in the den so I can just smile at them. Ahhh. One project (almost) down. Only...um... right, too many to count really, to go. Small victories though. Yes?