Josh and I went to our new house last night and pulled up all the carpet and padding from the main floor–that’s four rooms and a hallway. We had to avoid being stabbed by staples and the dust and mildew stench coming off the carpet was strong. Underneath we surveyed the wreckage: ancient hardwood floors that have been painted green in the living and dining rooms and brown in the two bedrooms. The only problems are the wiggly boards placed over an enormous hump in the middle of the floor–most likely a large beam underneath. There used to be a fire place in the living room corner, the evidence being plywood nailed down around the absent hearth instead of hardwood flooring. It’s really odd, when you look at our house you can see not one but two chimneys coming out of the roof. One is in the living room and other is behind the kitchen. I suppose they come from the days when the hearth was your sole means of heat and warming up your food.
Josh and I had a scare over the weekend. We were surveying the bathroom, and Josh stepped into the bathtub/shower. He didn’t fit! His head skimmed the ceiling. We freaked out: what are we going to do? Josh can’t fit into his own shower! OMIGOD! Then I made him take off his shoes…he fit much better, and realized that the shower slopes down towards the fixtures and he actually has several inches of clearance. Eventually we would benefit from tiling the whole shower area, avoiding eventual mildew build up from Josh’s head.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around living so far south and in the hood. My street is fine, fairly well kept houses. We saw a couple much like ourselves taking a walk with a tiny infant in a carrier and noticed that they live across the street…for some reason it made me feel better. We’re definitely not the first white folk to move to the block, however, we are the minority.
Several blocks to the east is the water, and the homes get significantly nicer. Several blocks to the south is the Kubota Gardens and a mishmash of houses varying in degrees of niceness. Several blocks north is Rainier Ave and, I have to tell you, it is an ugly, ugly, stretch of road. Sad, dilapitated businesses are barely standing, trash litter the road, strange characters roam the sidewalks, and I can feel myself starting to chicken out. I keep telling Josh we need to avoid Rainier, I-5 is to the west, only a half mile away. Last night we took the long trek back up Rainier to our current home, and it kind of tripped me out how random that road is. Several miles away you have intensely gentrified Columbia City, lined up with a Starbucks and fancy pub dining. Is it that this scene is more familiar to me, and therefore I feel more at ease? We drove by Katie’s townhome and I felt better.
Tonight we went back and began to arduous task of pulling out the carpet paneling and the wood trim that used to border the carpet. Tommorrow we’ll learn the virdict: restore the hardwoods or cover them with new ones. I think they’re salvagable but Josh is doubtful. We’ll see…