So very, very hard. I thought I’d surprise Wendy by doing the hall in the wooden plank effect flooring she wanted. I started a bit before ten o’clock, it’s only about nine foot square, so I thought I could have it well cracked before she returned from work. The first two planks went down relatively easily, and looked quite good.
I made a few mistakes, but learnt from them and was beginning to feel quite confident.
Then I tried to put down the third. Straight planks, cut one to length and that was it. No corners to cut out or anything, easy life. Would it join up? Would it buggery. I must have spent over an hour trying to get the third plank down. In the end I convinced myself that it was because the first two widths had come from a part pack we had left over from moving in, the third was from the new pack I’d just bought. So I took it up and cut out some more fiddly corners from new planks. The first two went down a treat, then guess what? Bet your arse. The third wouldn’t fit.
Out of options I just banged them together as best as I was able and carried on. Half past two and I was still struggling with the last plank. In my haste to get out (I had a sax lesson at three) I made a further balls of the final piece.
From the stairs it looks reasonable…
then you look a bit closer…
and regret it. Oh dear, oh deary me.
To rub salt into the wounds the front room (done by Peter, Wendy’s brother, and his father-in-law Terry) looks great, three years after it was laid.
Tomorrow I’ll have a ponder. There’s only that third plank and the last one that are irredeemably dire. To replace them I’d have to buy another pack from Ikea. £17 and a trip around Ikea.
But I don’t know if I could get the third plank to join up even on a third attempt. Which means £17 to improve one plank. Either way I’ll have to commence operation ‘Turd Polish’ (fitting the skirting board things to hold down the floor, and more importantly to hide the gaps) ASAP.
There is a reason why people employ tradesmen. It ain’t just laziness.
I’m pretty miffed now. I’ve spent the most of today sweating, sawing, and swearing, and the end result is a bag of tits. I don’t mind grafting all day if I get a good (hell, adequate) result, but I feel like I wasted my time and money today, and made a mess of Wendy’s dream home.
Rough and ready is fine by me, if it works it’s good enough. Wendy likes things to be aesthetic as well. Or, to put it another way not a total balls-up.
Ho hum. Low of mood am I. Still, my headache today has been manageable, small mercies and all.
Back to the sax practise, that was lamentable at my lesson today as well. Not a great day, all in all.