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.

Ding! Dong! The Carpet is Gone!

Can you believe I'm posting twice in one week?!? One week into summer break and I've just got a small case of cabin fever.

So, onto today's post. THE CARPET IS GONE! All the nasty, dingy, staple-filled, wall-to-wall carpet (that Grandmother was so proud of) has been ripped out of the house. Underneath are beautiful oak floors full of staples and just waiting for someone to love them. Everytime we mention to Grandmother how beautiful the wood floors are she just stares at us and says, "I don't understand why you would want those old wood floors. They aren't even very good quality. I just loved my wall-to-wall carpeting." She views the wood floors as "working class floors." I have to remember that 50 years ago almost everyone had wood floors and wall-to-wall carpet was the ideal.

But carpet just kind of grosses me out. Maybe its because I have a toddler, two dogs, and a cat but I just can't help thinking of all the little microrganisms breeding under the surface of carpeting. They just never seem clean to me. I can vacuum every day and carpet scrub once a month and I still feel like it's just dirty.

Anyway, we ripped carpet out of the living room, dining room, two bedrooms, and the hallway. I feel so much better about the entire space. It was the end of the day and we just wanted to get it over with so we just started ripping and rolling. You've heard me complain about the staples in the living room, dining room and one of the bedrooms. Well they continued through the hallway. When we got into the back bedroom, however, the carpet changed from beige to blue. And guess what...no really...guess...oh all right I'll tell you, better yet, I'll show you.

Instead of that nasty composite foam stuff, there was this. Equally nasty but not stapled down to the floor (insert squeal of excitement). I'm guessing it was once foamy and cushiony but now it is brittle and flat. It was just laying on the floor like that. We were able to just pick it up and neatly roll it inside the carpet.

And here's what we were left with...

Ahh...



Snoopy Snooper

When Joe and I purchased Grandmother's house we apparently also purchased all the stuff in the house. You see, Grandmother just turned 90 and decided she needed a little more freedom. She was kind of restricted in the house - stuck there on rainy/snowy days, no one to talk to, no one to take her places, etc. So, she decided to move into a retirement village. She went from a four bedroom house to a one bedroom apartment. She didn't take much stuff from her house, mainly just her bedroom furniture, personal items, kitchen necessities, and some books. So, there was a lot left over.

Before we signed on the house, all the family members went by and got what they wanted from the house (mainly pictures). After continuously begging asking family members to clear out the house we finally realized that everyone now considered all this stuff (I'm holding off calling it junk) ours. We were the proud owners of a lifetime's collection of furniture, books, kitchen supplies, clothes, toys, etc. Nothing of monetary value (that was already gone), just all that other stuff.

This brings us to the title of today's blog. Cleaning out someone else's stuff from their old house makes me feel weird. I constantly felt like I was invading Grandmother's privacy. I felt like a little kid snooping through my grandma's drawers. I kept looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was looking, like I was going to get into trouble or something. It's just very strange.

After a while, though, it kind of became a little game of who could find the coolest thing in the house. So here's a little run-down of the cool tidbits we have found so far:

• an ice pick advertising the Fort Smith Ice Company. It also said, "Yes, you too can have your very own ice box with cooled air."
• Grandmother's baby doll (from when she was a little girl) with the original dress. She was only partially decapitated.
• a 1940's step stool chair (I'm totally pumped about this one. Short people don't like tall cabinets).
• a 1950's dress. It barely fit me but I'm totally keeping it. Joe told me I looked like Debbie Reynolds when I tried it on.

...and then, we found the things that made it all worthwhile (almost). They were so cool, I can't even describe them. So, I took a picture with Joe as the model.

 Aren't those the most awesome swim trunks you have ever seen?!? This pair was one of three. This pair was very Lycra-like. There was one pair that was really short. So short Joe's butt would probably hang out of the back. They felt like polyester. There was also a pair that looked like today's board shorts but were way smaller. They were really thick and felt like wool (though I know that's not what they're made of). I'm currently trying to talk Joe and his brother to wearing them to the pool this summer.

We boxed and boxed and moved and moved until we had taken three very full truckloads of her things to donate. I didn't take any pictures because it just felt weird to document it, almost too personal. They weren't my things, they were someone else's. And yet, I was the one getting rid of them. I felt bad about it.

This whole process made me really think about the stuff at my house and what is important to me. Sometimes, I place sentimental value on things that aren't valuable to anyone but me. I keep things forever (especially if someone else gave it to me) and have a hard time getting rid of it. Do I really need all this stuff? And how would I feel if someone else went through it, boxed it up, and gave it all away?

What do you think? Do we really need all the stuff we collect over the years? Should we just part with it? Why do we feel we have a constant need for more and more?

The Saga of the Tar Paper

So, several friends have inquired as to why there hasn't been a new post in over a week. Well, it's because the tar paper continues to aggravate me. I see tar paper everywhere. I shake my fist at the linoleum section as I walk through Lowes. I can't smell anymore. Everything tastes like battery acid (even though i'm wearing a mask). I dream of tar paper adhesive (it's stronger than super glue). And to top it off, my hands are so sore from pulling and peeling, it kinda hurts to type. I promise I will post pics later this week.

To be continued...

Props

Totally forgot to give a shout out to some very good friends who showed up to help. Adam, Sean, and Kyle represented and helped Joe pull staples out of the floor. They more or less just watched me and my floor saga, commenting every once in a while on what I should/shouldn't do.

I just really want to thank them for coming out and helping. Joe said they pulled out a couple hundred staples. Nate even jumped in to help.



The Sticky Situation

So, I have to give Joe's family credit. When they do a job, they make sure it's done well. When they lay laminate flooring, they put enough adhesive on it to guarantee it won't budge even during an F5 tornado. Same goes for the carpet. That carpet had enough staples in it to ensure it would be securely attached to the floor in case any gale force winds were threatening to lift it off.

My question is, however, why? Why would anyone want to staple through wood flooring every five inches to lay carpet? Why would someone lay two almost identical layers of laminate flooring on top of beautiful wood? Why? Why?!? I don't get it. I think I paused every few minutes this afternoon and asked that question to myself. I almost cried once, thinking about the ruination of the wood floors under all the laminate and tar paper. Which brings me to today's post...

The Kitchen Floor...dun, dun, dddduuuunnnnn. This is what the floors looked like yesterday morning.

Then, yesterday morning, Joe and some kid he was paying $30 went to the house and scraped off two layers of laminate flooring. Whats funny is the layer under this one is the same pattern, only red brick color. Loved the pattern so much they decided to lay it twice. Ahh. Now here's your home constructions history lesson..old laminate that is layered over wood floors is held there with tar paper (When you say tar paper out loud you have to add a little scream or gasp in the background for effect...trust me, it's necessary.) Apparently, tar paper (gasp/scream, your choice) acts as a protective barrier for water or something stupid like that. This is what the floor looked like after the laminate was scraped off. There's wood under there somewhere.

Now that the laminate is removed it's my turn. I am the one tricked into removing the tar paper (you know what to do here). I come in confidently, I have read several blogs and feel comfortable in the method I have chosen to defeat the evil tar paper. My method? - to steam it up. I read online that chemicals were bad for the wood, and any flammable stuff was out of the question (me and flammable...we don't mix well). Plus, most people said none of that stuff worked anyway. Most suggest that we lay down towels and pour boiling water over them. Then let them sit and work their magic. They sounded confident, they sounded successful, their floors looked amazing...I was on board. So, I boiled my water, I laid out my towels, I poured the water over the towels and I waited.

Well, I'm sure you've figured out by now that all those nice, confident, reassuring, successful bloggers lied to me. They said it would, "come up like butter." Ugh, what a crock. It came up like, well, tar paper. I spent four hours on one tiny, little section of the kitchen and still have tar paper on the floors. It came up, it did, but it came up slowly and painfully. Now remember when I told you that Joe's family made sure things were done well...well, I guess they just wanted to be extra sure that no water would permeate their floor because while most people only lay one layer of tar paper they decided (can you guess?) to lay two layers of tarpaper. So, I'm pretty much going through the steaming towel thing twice. I can let it soak in boiling water, scrape off one layer, then pour on more boiling water. Heres a pic of the little corner I did (remember, I worked on this for four hours).

FOUR HOURS!!  

Crack House

So, finally, after months of waiting, waiting, waiting, and more waiting, things finally seem to be back on track. I took a few "before" pictures today. I'm going to try to start posting them so that everyone can see the "progress" that is happening.

Below is what went down today. I totally intended just to hang out and take a few pics today (maybe pull up a little carpet and marvel at the beautiful wood floors) and yet somehow ended up not only ripping out carpet but also wallpaper too.

This room is pretty scary. The wallpaper was coming down pretty easily but behind the wallpaper...oh, behind that wallpaper. Behind that wallpaper was a complete mess. I'm going to try to describe this the best way I know how. Someone (probably 60 years ago) decided to paint this room pink. Then, this person decided to hang wallpaper over that pink plaster...brown wallpaper with little red flowers all over it. (It was pretty gross.) Joe's Grandad made the wise choice to remove that wallpaper and Joe's Grandmother selected the country blue wallpaper you see above. 

Now, I had no intention of removing this wallpaper today. It was more curiosity than anything. I kept wondering, "What is behind that wallpaper? What is behind that wallpaper?" So finally, I grabbed a piece of loose wallpaper and just ripped. Amazingly, it tore all the way up to the ceiling without shredding. So I grabbed another piece and ripped that one off all the way to the ceiling as well. Everything after that is a haze of flying wallpaper and plaster. And yes, that is my dad standing there supervising. He "supervised" almost the entire process.

After the wallpaper frenzy and I was able to focus again, I finally took a step back and shrieked in horror. There were cracks everywhere. Im not sure these pics show it in great detail but it literally looks like a crack house. This room will haunt me in my sleep. In fact, I thought about calling up the producers of the SAW movies and letting them know that they could rent out this room to film their next movie.

Good news though, I did eventually end up tearing up the carpet. You can't tell from this pic but the floors are beautiful. I don't know why Joe decided to take a pic of the carpet pile instead of focusing on the actual floors but this seems to be the only one I have. We have beautiful floors with staples all through them--which reminds me...beer and staple party at my house next weekend!!!