...a step forward instead of back. Today there was PROGRESS. We had a really beautiful fall day. The problem was so much to choose from, as far as projects go. Clean the garage...work on K's room...work on the front door...and as always, housecleaning.
We opted for something that wasn't even on the list. While we were surveying the garage for trash and stuff to give to Goodwill, my husbands eyes lit on the now finished stair rail. I had been waiting to finish the foyer floor before getting it back up. I decided last week after the last application of poly that I was through with that, so why not.
Of course no project shared between us is complete without SOME kind of argument sharp words, or at the least, rolled eyes.
This started off with him asking if I knew where the screws were to put the thing back in the wall. "Of course, I do", I replied very scornfully, as if to say, "I NEVER lose things, fool."
All the while, my mind was searching frantically, because I couldn't remember what I had done with them. I don't know why I just couldn't be honest and admit I had lost them. So I went in the laundry room, (we keep our tools in there on shelves) which is the last place I saw them, and rooted around for awhile, but no dice. To make matters worse he kept popping his head in and asking "Have you found them yet?" I found myself starting to mutter angrily at myself again, just like when we were working on K's room.
Finally I spotted some screws that looked like they COULD be the ones. We tried them out and they seemed to fit. I was unsure they were the ones that actually came from the rail originally, but I wasn't about to tell HIM that.
We brought it in,very carefully so as not to scratch the new finish on the floor and between the two of us managed to get it up. The last time it was up it was white and the floor was those seventies wooden square parquet squares. The risers on the stairs also had parquet tiles. They weren't glued to the risers, either. They were glued to the back of some pieces of paneling cut to fit the space and THAT was glued to the stairs. Taking them off was so much fun. NOT. When I stood back and looked
I was unprepared for the beauty of the black wrought iron paired with the now refinished 80 year old oak floor. It took my breath away.
And a further surprise when I came downstairs at dusk. I had turned on the small stained glass hall lamp next to the rail. The resulting shadows on the floor were stunning. It reminded me of a violin scroll. I had been considering having the bulbous round part of the bottom of the stair rail removed because a)I didn't like it, and b)it took up too much space.
I changed my mind.
I love my hall.