Sick of the [most likely] original 1989 carpet (eww), that only served as a place for the cats to puke, I had it priced last year and was shocked that it was almost as much for the two bedrooms/tiny master closet as it was for the rest of the house. The project got back burnered while I saved some money and looked at options.
Bamboo was much cheaper than red oak (rest of the house). A cunning plan began to form... why not put bamboo in the bedrooms? I did an informal survey, would two different woods be too weird? Survey said... no.
I called the guy who priced it last year (who'd agreed to honor his install pricing from last year) and told him my plan. About three days later he called me back. He works at The ReUse Warehouse; along with reclaimed items, they also get surplus materials. A surplus of 5" solid bamboo had come in - for $2 a square foot. I promptly went down and purchased the wood.
Yesterday it went in - twelve hours of two young men hammering and sawing and pounding.
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| Before (cat puke stain front and center) |
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| After |
I saved almost $900 by waiting and being willing to think outside the box a little.
The cats spent twelve hours in the bathrooms: Finn and Oscar in one, Lillie in the other.
Finn and Oscar occupied themselves by going through the trash:
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| Idle paws are the Devil's tools... |
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Besides all that excitement, I've been thinking about the Paula Deen debacle.
Scratch my southern surface and there's a festering wound, squirming with the maggots of shame.
My father used the N-word. I wish he had never said it or any of the other racial slurs he used; I can't look at a Brazil nut without having what he called it pop into my head unbidden.
I hate him for it. And for thinking that my being appalled and hurt and shocked was funny.
My mother, being genteel and all, used the word "colored". I remember wondering what color she was talking about. (Could it be sea green (my favorite)?) Many of her family owned slaves and there's a slave cemetery attached to our family cemetery.
It is an ugly, ugly history. For all the good it does, I am desperately ashamed that my family had a hand in it.
I cannot even begin to articulate how much Ms. Deen's attitude pisses me off; dragging all of us with her back into the past. It makes me tired on a cellular level. Sick and tired.
Ms. Moon over at Bless Our Hearts said it very well.
Aw. Thanks for the shout-out. I know how you feel although my parents and grandparents were not racist and the N-word was never used but go back far enough on my father's side of the family and Plantations start showing up.
ReplyDeleteSigh.
All we can do is to go from where we are and not tolerate the dank remnants of the past. And, unfortunately, so much of the present.
Not that it's any comfort, but the common term in North Dakota for Brazil nuts was exactly the same, though there were no plantations within a thousand miles; racism travels in mysterious ways, and it eats out the hearts and fellow feeling of so many along its path.
ReplyDeleteAs for your other topic, floors, I am encouraged because my houseboat has a lot of gray pergo (sp?) here and there, and that particular color is, I hear, hard to find. So when the nearby carpets need replacing, I'm going to be daring. Thanks to you.