Anger Management?

Right now our apartment is carpeted. Yes, it's comfortable, but I grew up in a home with lots of hardwood. I prefer it. David prefers comfy feet.

When D and I first began looking at houses, we had a (friendly) little debate about hardwood vs. carpeting. When we bought this place, I had a little niggling sense of guilt. There was a lot of bare floor in the house, and I knew we would have to tear up carpeting, too.

After church and a leisurely lunch this Sunday, D and I made a run to Home Depot to buy some work gloves. Then we set to work tearing up the carpeting in the 3 bedrooms and hallway. We had no idea what to expect. We knew the carpet had been down for a very long time. The question was, why? What was hiding beneath all that woolly, dusty mess? We weren't sure how easily it would come up, either. We assumed it would be quite a chore, because it seemed as though almost every other project we'd tried just revealed our ignorance and ineptitude.

The carpets were old. Some of them had been there before the previous owners. Clouds of dust (and who knows what else) flew into our eyes, noses, and mouths until we finally thought maybe it'd be wise to use masks. The padding literally crumbled in our hands. We created a little moldy mountain outside, and then lugged the mound of ick into the equally icky garage. (I really, really need to pick up some garbage stickers. Soon.)

But - look at how pretty the floors are! We really lucked out. The third bedroom's floors were actually refinished once, 15 years ago. The other two bedrooms were not, as far as we can tell, but they've been covered by carpeting for the past 18+ years, so they still look good.

Personally, I thought the carpet project the most fun so far. Sort of cathartic, really. When we threw the last load out onto the front lawn (I'm sure our neighbors were cringing for a bit), David looked around and said, "They're so pretty. Just look at our house. It's finally starting to look like a place where I want to hang out."

"It'll be colder on your feet in the winter," I warned him.

He glanced at me, then back at the floors. "Enh, you can buy me those fuzzy-on-the-inside slippers."

Victory.