Thursday, August 26, 2004

Necessity and Co. Decorators cause Neurosis

When I was house hunting I thought for sure all the places I looked at were mute. Nothing spoke to me. Even though it was empty I knew the moment I walked though the door of my current place I was home. It was built in 1973, decorated soon after that and NEVER changed. It had the half wall, half post divider at the entrance and the open Brady Bunch stairway. The kitchen was tiled, floor to ceiling in white subway tiles that featured flourishes around the edges in harvest gold. Occassionally there was a tile featuring an off-center, highly-stylized tulip in harvest gold and avocado green. I thought the decor was awful, but the layout was good.

Beyond ugly the place was not livable, not because it was in ill-repair but because it had carpet. I have allergies and can't live with carpet it was all going to have to be removed and replaced with a hardwood, tile or laminate floor. Budget restrictions forced the issue and laminate won. Enter Necessity and Co.

My father, from here on out known as St. PawPaw, moved into the place after close and spent the next 7 weeks working all day removing the offending dust mites and their home, gutting the kitchen and replacing it with the beautiful new kitchen I designed (no cabinets were removed, relocated or otherwise altered in the remodeling of this kitchen) and of course installing a house full of laminate flooring. The list of executive decisions was extensive, toddler safety and budgets ruled the day. Necessity and Co. was firmly dug in.

My sister offered me a butcher block countertop for the kitchen. Beautiful, free (the designers loved that part) and installed -- perfect. But wait there's more, she tells me, "It needs to be seasoned. It needs to have oily sealant rubbed into it regularly and you can't get water on it until it's seasoned properly. It could take weeks." I have been so busy actually "living" in my home that I haven't been able to put the stinky, choke the life out of you sealant on it. The neurosis begins.

Laminate flooring is firmly packed cardboard with a picture of wood on it covered in a thin layer of plastic. It looks and works great if the plastic layer is unharmed. To install laminate flooring you have to whack one end with a hammer really hard so the other end's tab will go into the neighboring boards slot. Sometimes when you hit firmly packed cardboard with a a thin layer of plastic on it the a thin layer of plastic chips a bit when it bangs into the neighboring boards. The neurosis grows.

I called the seller and asked what to do about these ocassional chips in the laminate. "Get a small brush or a Q-tip and put water sealer on the exposed cardboard. Whatever you do don't get it wet." The neurosis begins to multiply bunny fashion.

I love my new home but I am going absolutely crazy trying to keep everything in the kitchen dry.

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