Monday, November 14, 2011

Closet Wood

I've been planning to install wood flooring since we moved into our condo nine years ago. The carpeting wasn't in bad shape when we moved in, but hasn't fared too well over the years.

Sure, some of it is just normal wear and tear. If I were the finger-pointing type I could easily cast aspersions toward my two cats or wine drinking husband. But if I did, they could counter with the snow-globe conflagration of 2008 and I don't want to give them that opening.

You accidentally focus the sun's rays onto the drapes and berber one time and you're forever labeled a pyromaniac. The Fire Inspector said it could happen to anybody. But he could only keep a straight face for a few seconds before he and the rest of the ladder company burst out laughing. One of the firemen slapped me on the back as he guffawed through his breathing apparatus. Based on the size and longevity of the hand print, I'm guessing he was the one who busted down the door.

Whereas our front door frame was shattered into splinters, there really wasn't much damage to the carpet. Just a small scorch mark that Julie said looked like a cat butt-scoot. I was able to fix it with a pair of nail trimmers. Unfortunately not before the insurance agent found it necessary to cut out a square foot sample from the middle of the living room to take back to his insurance laboratory. This explains our creative furniture arrangements since then.

This weekend I actually began the project of replacing the carpet with flame-retardant, wood-like laminate flooring. I started in the closet because I lacked self-confidence and -- taking a cue from the instructions on my box of Just for Men -- thought it best to first test my handy-manliness in an inconspicuous area.

This is also the location of the litter box and, while one of our cats is half blind, the other is just fat and lazy. They treat the litter box as more of a suggestion, an abstract concept representing eons of feline subjugation by a clearly inferior race.

I probably should have hired a contractor to do this work. And a hazmat team. This morning I woke up with every muscle aching. My knees are raw and even my nipples are sore. (I know, weird, right?) But so far I'm happy with the results.

Fifty square feet down, 1,250 to go.


  1. Yeah- thank god I got a flat with all wood floors already.

    And you are a better man than I, I'd be standing back, stirring a martini with a Quaalude an letting illegals knock the flooring out in an afternoon.

  2. That sounds like a lot of work, but have fun

  3. Hammering wood in the closet... Oh, my...

  4. I'm loving the Fire Dept. That was hilarious.

    But nipples hurting? What (else) ARE you doing while laying that floor?