Design…. Detours

Last year, I changed out the flooring in my living room.  It had been on the to-do list for a long time.  The floors were badly damaged from too much spillage from watering the plants. It got to the point where the floors were so warped that the pots weren’t sitting straight anymore.  But the main issue was the tripping hazard.  The bowed flooring (not pictured) was right at the entryway from the foyer. I can't have older parents tripping and falling when they come to visit the house.  That would be dangerous.  The floors had become a health hazard. It was time to rip them up.

Warped beyond repair.

The floors were not original to the house and were already damaged when we moved in, so that helped me feel better about replacing them.  The question now was – what will be the replacement?  My contractor insisted on vinyl plank flooring.  I was skeptical. I am a wood floor snob - I want the real thing - but he made a lot of good points: the plants, the kids, the pool.  Bad combo for wood floors.

The vinyl flooring I put in my sons' shared room looks good and is in great shape 9 years later. Perhaps I can hang with vinyl floors in the living room, too? We went through three rounds of samples trying to find something ok-ish.  In the end I picked the one that was closest to the warm walnut color of the furniture and had the least amount of variation.

Some of the options.

The final choice.

A few days later, up come the floors.  In the process of ripping up the floors, we discovered a hidden floor beneath. These were original floors. ORIGINAL WALNUT PARQUET FLOORS. I love these floors. How did I not know they were here the whole time? Dang.  Alas, the parquet floors were now all in piles of little rectangles and there was no going back. Plus, they had glue all over them from the installation or the top layer.

Let’s all agree right now that they were unsalvageable. Ok?  OK??!!!!

Parquet peaking through.

The piece I saved.

The floors are now stripped to the concrete slab and the vinyl gets installed.

The furniture goes back in its place.

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“It’s fine” I tell myself. “It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s totally fine.”

I suddenly feel the need to practice deep breathing exercises.

It’s not fine.

My friend walks into the room. I see her face freeze.

“It’s like the floors bring down the whole room,” “Yeah, pretty much” she agrees. 

She wasn’t supposed to say that. She was supposed to tell me that they looked great and that I was wrong.

She suggests that the solution is to wear blinders and flip them 90 degrees to block the view of the floor.  I mean, what else can I do? Get my brain genetically modified to like this flooring?

The contrast between the furniture and the floors is not good.  I love contrast.  I love juxtaposition. It’s how you bring out the best in everything!!! I use it everywhere, but not this kind.  This is clashing.  My eyes are not happy.  The floors are a nightmare.

“And at least you already got the pictures taken” my friend points out.  Yes.  She is correct. Pictures of my living room were captured when it was in peak bloom. I am very grateful to have immortalized that phase through photos.  Very grateful. So grateful.

Floors before.

Floors after.

It was learning lesson. Don't you love learning lessons? I know I do. I love them.

In the meantime, I will be over here trying really hard to practice the Buddhist principles of acceptance and non-attachment until I can rationalize investing in another change. It's not unfixable. The floor are floating and not glued down. It's just a design detour. When I do change them, I will invite all of you over and we will have a party to celebrate the restoration of a livable living room. Custom wood parquet flooring. No shoes. Only socks allowed.