Old Habits

One weekend down, and half of a dining room floored. Doesn't seem like much, does it? My quads and calves tell me otherwise. I really didn't want any more dust in the house, so I'm cutting in the garage. Flooring layed at a 45 degree angle (or 44.5 - 46.5, depending on what wall you're at) means a lot of cutting. Walk 9 steps through the kitchen, down four steps to the back hall, five steps to the garage, 11 steps to the end of the garage and there's the saw. Back and forth, back and forth.

This morning, Rory was acting like he had ants in his pants. Construction noise doesn't bother him so it wasn't that. It wasn't time for a walk. I'd given him a chew-treat. And he was still pacing around and every so often would come over and poke my arm with his nose. NOT conducive to detail work.

You know what his problem was? C'mon, guess.

I'd moved his blanket so I could start installing the floor. And there was his morning sunbeam, slowly making its way across the floor. Without Rory. I'm almost positive he was worried he'd miss it.

The toughest part (aside from solving Rory's problem)? Backfilling as I came around the wall and into the living room. Now I have about 15 rows of straight down and back from in the living room and the dining room before I hit another wall. But that's enough for this weekend.

Rory isn't my first Ridgeback. So, I expect certain things and much of his doggy-isms don't surprise me. They've all had distinct personalities. And they all get to a stage where they look, well, regal. That's probably the best word for it. This December Rory will turn four. Regal is rare.

Even his stalking can be lackadaisical. Today we were hunting German Shepherd. Only the stalking part turned into a bit of a lay-down. Or maybe he was in super stealth mode trying to meld into the ground. Hadn't thought of that until just now.

But then, there was this! Look...regal!

Oh. Wait. Look closer. See? This is more what I expect from Rory. I'm surprised it's not a big stringer of drool instead of grass. Maybe it won't show up so much on the blog. It definitely shows up in the full size version on my desktop.

This is much more typical Rory. Examining the piece of fluff that just floated down to his toes.

Fluff?

We came home from lunch today to find Rory had fallen into a vat of paint. Okay, that's a lie. But he looked like he had fallen into a vat of paint. His entire left half was grey. Just dust, as it turns out. And the culprit? A sunbeam.

We tore up floor yesterday, down to the planks. It made a lot of dust. A lot. Here's our hero, making sure he gets evenly toasty. And evenly dusty.

I've had Ridgebacks who knew how to pull their blankets around to follow the sunbeams through the house. Not Rory. He chose to lay directly on the wood planks even though his blanket was ten feet away. I've since exercised my considerable blanket-relocation skills, much to Rory's satisfaction.

Two Steps Forward

Two foward. And none back. So far. Keelan was kind enough to donate his muscle and a couple of hours of time to get the rusty plush off the stairs and pull out all of the staples, carpet tacks and nails.

Much to our surprise, the stairs turned out to be oak, and possibly salvagable. Some sanding and some stain to match the new tiger wood, or just a clear finish. Who knows, maybe it`ll work.

See the feet on the left side of the photo? Those are the feet of a true friend. One that thinks spending a day or two out of the last long weekend of the summer pulling up subfloor and screws and nails is, well, better than what she had planned. She`s crazy but I love her for it.

And the square of carpet in the photo above? It`s the last remnant of the shaggy stuff. It looked kind of lonesome, up close.

Progress

Install:
Hood and fan, check.
Stove and gas, check.
Base cabinets, check.

View from the dining room.

 View from the far side.

Still to go: Counter. Upper cabinets. Cabinet doors and drawers. Crown molding. And no doubt lots of little futzy things we haven't thought of yet.

But I'm feeling happy.