Bren went Medieval on the tub. Or, in his case, the footbath. And it takes a couple of days after ripping this crap out to be able to make a fist again.
Last Saturday, I dogsat this Gunter girl:
Afterwards, on a whim, I decided to take a peek and see if the kitchen floors were hardwood too. I found:
Hardwood. Under (again) two layers of linoleum, the oldest of which looks like...you guessed it...the most sensible thing to cover genuine hardwood floors with...fake wood!
To explain the late post...the layers of ancient linoleum are not going gently into that good night. Four days later, this is where I am in the kitchen:
The glued-down tar paper is coming up with a hot soak and a razor, but the glue itself will have to be sanded down, tripling our sandpaper budget. (It clogs the paper very quickly).
I have to keep telling myself how cool it will look when it's done. It will, right? Right?
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