Is that varnish I smell?

I've been trying to put together a video montage of our housing search complete with some songs and sepia toned pictures and a sad clown. However, windows movie maker is refusing to download to my blog at this point, so anyone reading this blog will just have to imagine how amazing and epic that video might have been. We're talking like the Epic of Gilgamesh epic. Although, perhaps I just haven't finished the video because I'm too lazy to deliver good content to this blog/most things in my life.

At some point around midnight on Monday night I realized that I was living through a nightmare, which more to come on those vis a vi scary movies, as I was painting the lower part of the wall on our hardwood floor. For those that don't know, I have the fine motor skills of a severely impaired chimpanzee. Thus, painting in a very small area with the ability to stain the floor with copious amounts of paint is not my idea of fun.

Notes on hardwood floors. I want to give a word to the wise. Hardwood floors have a big downside. They are hard. Granted, I probably should have known that from the name, but I wasn't sure just how uncomfortable they were until I was sitting on my cartilage ravaged knees trying to keep my roller from dripping paint. I failed. I can see why the previous generation wanted to put carpet over hardwood floors. They all realized what a pain in the ass they were to be on. And now we need to buy area rugs to cover our new floor and buy little fabric for our furniture. Nothing like paying money for something then covering it up/paying more money for it. On the bright side we can have people over now and talk about how nice the floors are.

M: I really like how you can see the grain of the wood. Are you seeing the grain?
Guest: Yes, well, C and I have been having a good time at work of late
M: Sorry to interrupt, but look at that area rug. Are you as excited about that area rug as I am Bill?
Guest: Yes, they are very nice.
M: Look at the subtle amber.
Guest: Coat please.
M: I'm just glad we don't have parquet.

Over under on the number of times S will mention Adirondack chairs before actually putting them on our front porch.
8.
Feel free to wager heavily on this.

Hell, I spent some of the best times of my childhood huddled over a floor heater on a beautifully carpeted living room. If it was hardwood I probably wouldn't have done it. I'm thinking of talking out the hardwood and putting in a nice red shag carpet. At the very least a bear skin rug is going in my basement dammit! Mark my words! Mark them!



New and improved conversation with guest.
Note: We're both now lying comfortably on the bear skin rug and swirling our glasses of wine.
M: I just love the feel of dead animal fur against my bare skin.
Guest: Where did your shirt go?
M: Nothing beats it. Are you a good foot masseuse Bill?
Guest: We probably need to go.

Okay, so it ends the same, but think how much more comfortable we both were during that exchange.

And at some point during the weekend extravaganza the surprising thing is how you start to feel like a competent home owner. You suddenly realize that with the help of at least three other people you might be able to take on some home projects yourself. Hell, you might even save yourself some money. Then you realize how much good television you'd be missing and you start asking friends around the office for the number of a cheap handyman.

Did anything interesting happen to me today? Answer: no. That's probably the toughest part about consistently writing a blog, my life isn't interesting enough. Maybe you'd like to read about how I killed a cricket? No. Oh well. Note: If any Janeism folks are reading this please read "killed cricket" as humanely put beneath a glass and released into my back yard with good wishes for future serenades.