Sunday was the day. My Charles was set to lay down the floor, and who was I to stand in the way? We went down to our local hardware store and rented a chop saw, came home, laid down a vapor barrier, and started adjusting the floor. The laminate came in double planks. I was a bit bummed, as there were two planks with the same seam, but the minute we cut one in half, we discovered something...
They didn't have to be in double plank form! They were a click and lock system, and they had just been locked into doubles to fit in the box. We took the planks apart and started fresh, staggering the seams. My heart began to pitter pat, overwhelmed with the glossy splendor that was the growing floor.
It came together rather quickly, about four hours all told. My Charles used the chop saw. It looked fun, but he was enjoying it so much, I didn't want to slow the momentum. We laid the planks as you would a traditional wood floor. The deep red partnered with the dark edges gave it a pretty convincing no-really-I'm-wood look.
If you stare, you can find the planks with the same pattern scattered about the room, but it's just so darn shiny and purty, I'm ecstatic. I have a floor! It's been so long since my office could boast that.
I still have a lot of work to do. I need to paint the ceiling and make a built-in bookcase for the odd, little alcove in the space, but my desk is moved in, my Bruce Campbell is hung, and I can close the door and work -- on my art, on my photos, on my blog. It really is glorious. Waiting so long to get my space back has taught me not to take it for granted.
We worked non-stop. We wanted to get 'er done, and we had only rented the chop saw for the day. It went quickly, but it was tiring. My mid-thirties bod is still sore. But it was oh so worth it!
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