Someone once said that floors are the eyes to the window of the soul of a home. That person was an idiot and led a life of obscurity; I just thought I would bring it up.
Now that we are living the life of artists in the barn loft, it was high time to get the finish work done before winter sets in and I gain too much weight to move. Since we don’t believe in following anything resembling a rational course of action, we decided it best to do the floors first.
I have come to realize that most of my stories involve nagging and coercing Danny into most projects, so lets just say he eagerly volunteered to take on the design work for the floor. Actually it wasn’t that hard to get him to agree this time, I just threatened to get into a fight over it. That works every time. Not that he’s afraid of the fight, but after 30 years together he’s terrified of the makeup sex.
Danny began by working out the basic design format for the floor on paper. I proceeded to the more manly task of sanding the floors, which was surprisingly easy, although the particle mask was unflattering and left an unsightly impression on my face which lasted for two days…but I digress.
Once Danny had worked out the design, we outlined it on the floor using transfer paper, at least I think that’s what he did; I was still basking in the glow of a manly sanding job well done.
Once he had the outline traced on the floor, I tinted the interior of the border with a sea green translucent stain – not nearly as manly a job but far more nerve wracking.
Next came the really fun part – well, fun because I got to drink coffee and watch – Danny took out his colored pencils, crouched in the fetal position for a week and before you know it (a week actually) there was a stunning floor waiting for a protective coating. For that we applied one coat of floor varnish every day for three days (that’s three coats if you don’t want to do the math).
We are now starting work on all the projects that could damage the beautiful new floors – too bad I’m a sloppy painter.