Sorrow Sorrow Sorrow.
Was happily blogging away for the very first time, got to a nice transition, went to save and lost part of my post. Oh the humanity. What follows it what remains. I will keep going tonight or tomorrow.
We recently had our kitchen remodelled. It started with wanting carpet (yes in the kitchen!) replaced with laminate, a dishwasher installed and the removal of a wall and ended with us tearing everything out down to the studs. Per a friend’s recommendation we found a great contractor who helped us get the most for our dollar and who did wonderful work as well as lined up contractors who came when they were scheduled and did great work too. The whole job was done in less than three weeks…except for the floors. A friend of ours had recently helped his brother put a laminate floor in his house and offered to help us too. We decided to do it ourselves.
Now, we painted, and um, cleaned, oh and I gardened a lot and my husband mowed. We changed lightbulbs too, but that is about all we did, in regards to our home, ourselves. Our friend, Dan, assured us it was a snap and so cheap too. This was a relief as roughly every floor in our home was screaming to be replaced. Our plan had been to pay to have the kitchen and dining room floors done professionally but that was before we knew the whole kitchen was going to be redone. Dan’s suggestion and offer of help seemed like the perfect solution until the carpenter and contractor started putting in our cabinets. That was when my floor guy was first mentioned.
Picture a contractor, a very proficient one, shaking his head, a dazed expression on his face – sweating. It is January. In addition to having crappy floors, my money pit, I’m sorry, home is never warm. “Your guy is going is going to have a sweet time with that floor.” Now I knew I had two guys, one was sitting in an office and the other one was practicing trombone for a symphony. Combined they didn’t make a floor guy.
“What do you mean?” trembly voice. I don’t really remember what he said but basically my floor drops about ten feet in a one foot area. You could get a nose bleed walking across my kitchen. It wasn’t very nice, even if I could, I wouldn’t repeat it.
I called one of my floor guys at work, the one I sleep with, “…and Tom said it goes down…and we’re gonna…and he wouldn’t….and…” My voice trailed off into a squeal that only dogs could hear. Paul interrupted, “I’ll talk to