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It started the Thursday before Labour Day weekend. Steve and I decided we were going to finally replace the livingroom floor. We've had the materials lying around for 18 months...it seemed like a good time to start things.
We went to bed that night like we always do, slept well, etc. When I woke up Friday morning, it happened...
I started thinking.
I came downstairs, kissed Steve good morning and right off said "I've been thinking."
"Uh-oh" he said.
That phrase tends to bring a sense of fear whenever he hears me say it.
I don't think all my thoughts deserve to be considered bad. Ok, thinking I'd look good with a perm was not a good thought. And thinking that everyone wants to hear me sing at the top of my lungs after 5 or 6 beers is never a good thought either. But I did think marriage was a good idea when Steve proposed and after almost 29 years, I still think it's good. So they're not ALL bad.
"We really should replace the ceiling tiles and wall panelling with gyprock before laying down the floor" I said.
He just gave me a blank stare, shook his head and headed out the door to work.
That night, we headed off to our local Home Hardware and bought everything we needed to renovate the livingroom. We spent the weekend demolishing the room and got the ceiling and the little corner where my desk sits gyprocked. That leaves 3 ½ walls to go. Steve's hoping to have it finished by Thanksgiving so we can get the floor laid that long weekend.
But you know, I've been thinking. We have a small room off the livingroom where the walls and ceilings should be replaced too. And we bought enough flooring to do that room so maybe we should tackle it at the same time. Oh, and while I think of it...the wall going upstairs needs to be done too!
Maybe I'll just keep these thoughts from Steve and figure out a way to make him think he came up with them himself.