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The to-do list for our new house is longer a sheet of notebook paper can contain, but yesterday the house itself added one thing to the list and insisted upon it: a pedicure.
I know what this sounds like. Amanda has been inside her house too long. The Yellow Wallpaper is speaking to her. Yes, I could see where you got all that. Especially because her wallpaper was red and white and featured a woman and man in various states of relationship and she was tearing it unceremoniously down from the walls of the new home she’s sharing with her husband. I promise, it’s not symbolic of anything but a change in taste.
But I digress.
The house and it talking to me. It’s not a haunting – but it is of a sort.
In the “Cheap Old Houses” book (which I highly recommend - it's my Mother's Day wish), one of the homeowners is quoted as saying that the home will tell you what it needs.
As I looked down at the floorboards yesterday, I finally heard something that went beyond the creaks of the boards: “I desperately need a pedicure!”
No, not me (but really me, too). The house. Its hardwood floors are in a sorry shape. What appears to be primer and some mid-tone stain are everywhere and wearing through. I got curious. What was underneath all of that?
Reddish pine. Hardly any knots.
But finding a refinisher has not been easy. And the price tag is in the tens of thousands.
It seems the house wants me to give it a pedicure.
And it seems – with years of furniture refinishing under my belt – my home’s floors are to be my largest wood refinishing project ever.
Our home has six bedrooms, a parlor, dining room, living room and kitchen. I’m not refinishing all of those floors. Not even half of them.
I’m starting small: the front hallway. The dining room, parlor and living room are keeping their hardwood floors, but the bedrooms and offices will be carpeted in the coming weeks to ward off cold feet in the wintertime. If I get around to refinishing those spaces some time in the future, I’ll have truly lost my mind, but will likely enjoy the journey into true insanity. For now, though, I’ll contain my crazy to the front hall where so much work is already underway.
I’m refinishing the front door, the hallway shed its wallpaper with my help and beveled windows are under repair. Today I’m buying paint.
Or maybe perhaps, I’ll find myself on the floor, scraping back years of primer and stain. A grand pedicure. That’s what this will definitely be. Pruning to remove the thin layer of primer and stain. Sanding to bring back its softness. Wood conditioner to lay a lovely foundation. Stain to dress up the space. Polyurethane to polish the look. It’s a long way. It’s a long process. It’s going to be awesome.
If you find me talking to my floors, know that I’m promising them everything that I can – everything that I’ve tried to learn over these many years of do-it-yourself projects. If you come over and I’m laughing maniacally on my knees, covered in wood chips and wielding a dull scraper, call my husband and my mom. They’ll know what’s up: she left the polyurethane can open again.
Close the lid and get her a Diet Coke. All will be well. Eventually.
