B-amboo. A renewable resource with a million uses. And one of them is to cover my floor.
It’s also about the time that one of the children called up the stairs that the drains in the basement were backing up, and there was water all over the floor downstairs.
This was the second day of the flooring project. And we were hoping it’d be the last.
P-atience. An infinite resource with my Dad. After trying to teach us OtherHalf and I how to lay a floating hardwood floor for a day and a half, he somehow kept his sanity and his sense of humor. He has been a plumber for most of his adult life, and coming down to this point in the floor, and hearing about the sewer backing up, he visibly slumped and shook his head. He figured he’d have to “fix” this problem too. We called someone.
A-mazement. A constant feeling at the front of my head all weekend. My dad – just kept going. Even after my knees started to resemble little, purple broken-glass filled water balloons, and I was begging for it to all be over, my dad kept cutting, fitting, ripping, gluing, nailing, finishing. I don’t know how he does it. I’m in awe, and I’m humbled.
L-ove. What swelled in my heart this weekend. For my Dad, for being the amazing, smart, funny, patient, constant man that he is. For my OtherHalf, for losing so much sleep over the weekend to help us do this, working shoulder to shoulder both with my dad and with me, and for keeping his head when the sewer flaked. For my kids for being there to help whenever I needed something fetched, or just needed someone to brace against to get myself up off the floor. And for my new floor.
Love. All the way to my toes.