Farmhouse Renovations!

You ever have a dream about something in your future, and you think, “Yes. This is exactly what I want.”

Well, that kinda crystalized for me. I mean, I by no means dreamt that the ripping out of the baby poop green carpet would come after we’d already been moved in for 3 years. Nor did I imagine I’d be pregnant with baby #4 during the process. But guys, it’s finally happening. That nasty floor junk is coming out!!! Even lil Hank is excited.

And because my hero, Shaye Elliott painted her subfloors until she could decide on a permanent flooring, I’m going to follow in her footsteps. Because rustic painted floor is SOOOO much better than 1970s green shag carpet. Can I get an Amen!? Amen.

Anyone ever wonder what 49 years of under-the-carpet dirt looks like? Yeah, me neither, but by George, I found out anyway.

And don’t let that Kirby vacuum salesman fool you- we have one and the floors STILL have “under-dirt”.

I started ripping up the carpet while my husband was mowing the yard. Then he came in and after the littles’ bedtime, he helped me pull up the tack strips and staples, and roll the nasty all outside to be dumped at the road for my neighbors to judge and the garbage men to cart off.

I swept a good gallon of dirt up with a broom. I haven’t vacuumed yet- it’s on my to do list though.

I’m thinking through the painting process and moving about the furniture strategically so that I don’t paint myself out of a bathroom, or some other such nonsense.

I think I’m going to sand, at least a little bit, to get rid of some of the nasty before I paint. And my plan is to start from the kitchen-most area first, and end by the hallway.

I admit, I was a bit curious to see what was under the area of carpet we refer to as “the Puke-meuda triangle” because everyone in the house has managed to throw up in that spot, dogs included. It was thoroughly underwhelming- just a bunch of dirt and off-colored carpet pad.

My husband looked at our “progress” last night, and seemed pretty dejected. I asked him what was the matter and he said,

“Ugh, did you just never have to live in a fixer-upper? Is that your fascination with all this?”

“What? Well, no. But my fascination stems more from the sweat equity!”

“The what?”

“Sweat equity! You know, the time you invest dealing with a bunch of disgusting crap before you can actually enjoy yourself.”

“And when does the enjoyment part happen?”

“When it’s beautiful!”

“And if I don’t care about that part?”

“Then it starts when your wife no longer nags you to finish projects.”


He may be a little bit of a pessimist.

This afternoon during naptime, I plan on getting the last of the staples up in the area we pulled out last night, and then scootching everything into that area while I pull up the rest of the dining room carpet nasties.

More to come!

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