FLOORED

Floored

During one of our initial discussions with Paul, our general contractor, we discussed what kind of flooring we would like in our new house.  Without hesitation, we told him that we wanted wood. We had installed birch floors in our house in Maine and loved them. But what about the existing strip oak in the cottage? It was serviceable, economical and a good reuse of material. If we chose new flooring, there would be labor expense and environmental costs that would go against our budget and our conscience. So we decided to try and preserve the original flooring if we could. Good weather prevaled as the cottage was deconstructed. Then when the roof was removed the rains came and flooded the house. Chris and I spent a whole day baling it out with mop and a shop-vac.  Then it rained that night and the work had to be done all over again.  After that, huge blue tarps were nailed to the rough openings every night until a new roof was built and the windows were installed. 

Blue light cast by window tarps greet the Goodwins

Last week, Paul brought a floor man around to the house to give us an estimate on the cost of installing new floors and reconstructing the old ones. This fellow’s assessment was to rip it all out and start over. I was shaken.  No, we would not abandon our plan, not after 6 months of effort. Needless to say, I asked Paul to bring in the next man from “his ark”. Sturgis St. Peter told us the floor could easily be fixed. He even suggested that Chris and I help keep our labor costs down by helping. Chris pried up the old boards and I hammered out the nails. And at the end of the weekend we had a very respectable pile of boards ready for reuse.

New oak flooring arrives

Last week 700 linear feet of new oak was delivered. It sat in the house for a week acclimating to the humidity and the heat. Then on Tuesday Sturgis and Wally moved their tools in and got ready to work. I have been painting in the kitchen so every once in a while I leave my ladder and peak into the other room to see how the work is progressing. It is quickly becoming a whole floor again, a mosaic of fresh blond wood and old dark boards.

Weaving the new and old oak floor

I am grateful to all the people who helped us save the old floors. These boards have history and meaning for our family.  For fifty years they have been crawled on by toddlers, trampled on by kids, scuffed on by summer visitors, stomped on by workers and now danced on by Chris and me.