Drum Sander = Pure Awesomeness

I've learned a few things about sanders the past few weeks.

1. The Varathane Sander that you can rent from the big box store is a joke. It's not powerful enough to do anything and we wasted an entire day with it. Not to mention the $$ we were out for renting it and buying all the pads.
2. When you rent a sander, you want to go to the industrial "you rent it" place. You know, the ones with forklifts in the front. These sanders are pure awesome and the people that work there actually know what the hell they're talking about unlike that big box store (it starts with an L by the way).
3. You want a drum sander. Ours was amazing. It was pretty much a big, heavy Baldor motor with sandpaper attached. Joe ran this bad boy and it must have been pretty hardcore because I've noticed some new definition in his arm muscles since we began the sanding process.
4. You want an edger. This thing is pretty heavy itself and is guaranteed to work your booty as you work on the floors.
5. It is a process.

We had to sand the kitchen like 8 times. We started with 18 grit sandpaper and realized that it was waaayyy too coarse. I was worried about us sanding all the way down to the subfloor with that stuff. Then we moved on to 24. That was the ticket. The adhesive left over from the tarpaper came up like no body's business. I think it was equally impressed by the drum sander and just surrendered to defeat. After we went over it twice with the 36, we moved on to 80, and then 100. Now the floors look AMAZING!

So Excited!!!

I don't know why dark spots are showing up in the picture. They aren't there in real life. Weird.

Don't Say I Can't Do Something

So, I've been called out again for not keeping up with the blog. Too much is going on! Things are finally starting to happen with the house right at the time that I have to go back to work. Between getting everything ready at school, keeping our current house clean (it's on the market), working on the house, and keeping Nate from killing the cat, I just haven't found the time to update the blog. But, excuses, excuses.

I know you probably think this blog has turned into an epic adventure. Joe and I are the heroes in the story and our nemesis? Well, let's just call him, "He who shall not be named." Hint, hint...it's on the floors...and it's black. Well, I'm here to tell you that several battles were fought. Blood and brain cells were lost. The war is over, and the heroes once again emerge victorious.

Sooooo many people told us it couldn't be done. Even more people looked at us with crazy eyes when we told them what we were doing. It can be done...WE DID IT!

Check back later for more pictures and a play-by-play of the action.

I'm in Love with a Stripper

Well, actually it's a wallpaper steamer but stripper was more fun to type. Are you singing it with me?

If it wasn't in your head, it is now. Ha ha ha!
So, you've seen the tragedy that is our kitchen floor. To recap, it was two layers of linoleum and two layers (because one just wasn't enough) of tar paper over oak floors. After hubby scraped up the linoleum he handed me knee pads and said, "You want wood floors? Have fun! Peace!" Since then it's been my responsibility to find a way to get rid of all the tarpaper.

After about 20 hours of work (no, not all at one time) its finally done. What was my secret? A wallpaper steamer. I went to the big box store and bought myself a nice multipurpose steamer with a wallpaper removal attachment. Below is the particular one I chose.

It's a Wagner 905 Power Steamer. It guarantees to remove wallpaper "the first time every time." I decided it would be my weapon in the epic battle against tarpaper.

Using the attachment intended for wallpaper, my gardening cushion (achy knees = no bueno), and a putty knife I attacked that tarpaper. The steamer holds about one hour's worth of water/steam and I filled it up roughly 20 times.

I'm not ready to show pictures. The floor still looks awful. I got all the tarpaper off but there's still lots of adhesive. Originally I was steaming until everything came off, tarpaper and adhesive. But after I broke into tears the 50th time, my dad decided to call a floor guy he knows. The floor guy promised we could sand the adhesive off but removing the actual tarpaper was necessary. Fingers crossed he knows what he's talking about.

Self-affirming mantra: "They'll be pretty when they're done." --This is actually what I say about everything house related.