Once Upon A Staircase (Part 2)

By the time I had painted the entire interior of my house, the stairs and hall were dry enough to be addressed. I had begun to break the project down into steps (no pun intended). My first assault was on the hall subfloor. It seemed pretty likely that I would end up cutting out and removing it entirely; a job I did not want to tackle. It would involve:

  1. Making friends with my skill saw again, which I’ve only used one other time before and isn’t my most comfortable tool.

  2. Living for an indefinite period with only exposed joists between me and the downstairs ceiling.

  3. Somehow getting a 4 x 8 sheet of plywood to my house. My only vehicle is a Honda Civic, so I would have to beg/borrow/steal a truck, then manage to get said plywood home in the constant rain that is February in Fairview.

  4. Wait for a break in the rain, drag my crappy table saw into the driveway and somehow muscle said plywood sheet into the appropriate shape(s). I dislike my table saw intensely because it is as I said, crappy, which means I have never been friends with it. It wobbles, shrieks and bucks, leading to very inaccurate cuts, and no small number of bad words.

  5. Installing the new subfloor and probably waiting for it to dry again, knowing the likelihood of it and I getting caught in the rain at least once in the process.

So before resorting to all that noise, I decided to gamble $56 on a can full of hope:

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I didn’t take any photos of painting the subfloor for some reason. I think crawling around on it to brush on the paint was such a nasty experience (eclipsed only be the act of removing the carpet) that I just wanted outta there between coats. It smells pretty heinous until it dries, and open windows in February are a known bummer where I live.

But open them I did, and paint it I did, all three coats. And ya know what? The universe must have taken pity on me, because it worked!

Fueled by success and coffee, I began Operation Underlayment. That’s what I called it then. I now lovingly refer to it as Operation Glue My Tiffany Bracelet To The Subfloor With Construction Adhesive.

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What I know now, but didn’t then, is that construction adhesive is a lot like acrylic yarn: It’s hard to control and damn near impossible to get rid of. So even though I cleverly wore gloves, the adhesive somehow got up under the one covering my bracelet. In the process of trying to extricate myself from glue, underlayment, bracelet and floor, things went badly wrong. Fortunately I was able to get the adhesive off my jewelry before it solidified into an irremovable mass. Things didn’t go as well for my skin but hey, skin grows back and bracelets don’t. And before you say it, yes, I know it comes off with mineral spirits, which I even had on hand. But in this case, there was a definite window of time after which mineral spirits no longer worked on skin. Which, when I consoled myself with some beautiful hand dyed black yarn later that evening, stained my hands black. And my stained, I mean NOTHING I tried to remove it worked. Straight bleach, industrial oil remover, acetone, you name it I tried it. I had to wait until it wore off, some 8 days later. Heed my lesson, Gentle Readers: Never install felt underlayment without your opera gloves.

Ruby somehow avoided becoming permanently affixed to the floor by liquid nails.

Ruby somehow avoided becoming permanently affixed to the floor by liquid nails.

Free at last! The dirty-looking spots on my new felt underlayment are the scene of the Bracelet Incident.

Free at last! The dirty-looking spots on my new felt underlayment are the scene of the Bracelet Incident.

Here is the greatly-improved upstairs hall after I finished. At the bottom of this shot you can see the very beginning of my dreamy new wide plank floor. Yes, it’s unfinished. Turns out prefinished floorboards are about as affordable as a quiviut bedspread.

Watch this space for what happened next.