So, yes, as the title suggests, I Pergoed...a room...over an entire weekend...9 hours of manly labor. I was left with a feeling of accomplishment, pleasant exhaustion. I produced something appreciated by Rob and Erica, the homeowners.
I can understand why free time for my Grandpa meant toiling on some project in the backyard, it's such a great feeling standing back and knowing you've altered something for the better.
I digress, back to the Pergo experience. Initially, the work was slow, but after a frustrating 4 hours we got some pointers from Rob's dad and Stephanie's brother. Pergo chips easily.... do you hear that world?....PERGO CHIPS EASILY. If you EVER think about laying down that stuff, email me, and I can provide some valuable tips for laying that stuff. Now I feel like a pro, but the first four hours I felt like an infant.
Also, one quick suggestion: if you can buy, beg, barrow, or steal a table saw, do it, because using a buzz saw is like engaging in hand-to-hand combat with a toothpick.
While it did take Rob and I nine hours, I'm glad we didn't have more help. Snapping the imitation wood together in their living room was a job for only two people.
I do need to add one more thing: Rob is my only rival when it comes to fretting. We nicked some wood while laying down the second row, and he was hemmin-and-hawin about it. I assured him, probably 4 times, "we can redo that piece. Let's just put a new plank down." Of course, in all honestly, I wanted to forget about the chip and move on. Up to that point we had been working for hours and had covered very little ground (literally). I was looking for a little more progress, and wanted to just move on. Rob, maybe sensing my desire to push ahead repeated, "no. Let's just leave it. It'll be fine, we can fill in the chipped portion." I think he believed if he repeated it enough, it would come true.
We moved on, but he didn't and his mantra, "it'll look fine," failed too. He wasn't fine with the blemish, focused on the imperfection he'd lament, "it's right in the walk way. It'll be noticeable."
"Rob, let's just replace it," I offered.
Rob: No, no. It'll be ok.
Anyways...bare with me, this is the final portion...we lay another five rows down before Rob's dad comes over to offer some advice. First piece of advice: "Rob, you should fix that." The "that" referred to was the chipped plank back on row two. Bear in mind we're now on row seven, but the wisdom of father overpowered Rob.
Rob: Yah, we really should. I'd feel better if we did. You're right.
Dad: We'll have to pull up some of the floor to get at that second row.
Paul (internal monologue): Oy fuckin vay!
Robbie, Robbie, Robbie. When Daddy speaks, you say "how high?!" Fortunately, the adjustment didn't take long, but it cracked me up that padre was the one to push Rob into some action.
Here are some before and after pics of the room as well as a great pic of Rob and I at work. I think from now on I want to be photographed from above; I look so much thinner here. Appearances can be deceiving, and thank god the deception works in my favor.
0 comments:
Post a Comment