Bob, the floor guy, will be here tomorrow to start the sanding. He’s already got the raised platform that held the wood stove out and is ready to install connecting wood pieces to the wood floor. My job is to get all the furniture out. So today I am packing and moving and causing great discomfort to my back and other areas of my body. I’m not as young as I once was.
All because I wanted a baby grand piano
I measured and finagled and measured again, but, no, it just wasn’t going to work with that big, raised platform there in the corner of the room; the big, raised platform that had no purpose anymore since the stove was out. So now it’s a bare spot with jutting hardwood planks… and a note. There is nothing like tearing away the carpet or the old paneling or a wall and finding a treasure. A treasure from yesteryear, something that gives you a little look into the past, lets you know a detail or two about the ones that came before you; even if it wasn’t so very long ago.
This treasure was a note telling me when the house was built and who built it. Neat. My sister-in-law will think so, too.
All because I wanted a baby grand piano.