The flooring guys showed up here yesterday morning to begin installing the floors. They finished one room, the kitchen. Errrrrthing had to be moved. I emptied the contents of a small hutch (pint and quart jars full of dried beans, rice, jellybeans, and buttons, and miscellaneous other stuff) onto the stove top, which the installers then had to move when the moved the stove out. Probably would have been better to have left everything in the hutch.
Today, they did the living room, the bathroom, and the hallway. Tomorrow, a bedroom and the ukulele room. He says they'll be done by Friday. He replaced the seal on the toilet to accommodate the new flooring, and it is leaking.
When I came home from work there was a pile of junk in the entry hall. A guy was flooring the closet, where the pile of junk had originated. Four bicycle helmets. A pair of baseball cleats (it has been 20 years since anybody in this house played baseball). Four pairs of flipflops. A pair of winter boots I didn't even know I owned. A kite. A pair of work boots that once fit a 3-year-old boy. And so many coats and sweaters we couldn't hang another one in there if we wanted to. Most of the shoes belong to The Husband (except for the ones we could not identify). The minute he got him, I handed him a garbage bag and told him to get busy. To his credit, he threw away everything that needed to go.
I am ashamed of how nasty my house is. I swear the dust on my baseboards could be spun, like yarn, and knitted.
No comments:
Post a Comment