Pretty, pretty floor

The kitchen floor is finished, and it's beautiful. I love it, and don't want anyone walking on it, so we'll have to get the kids some jetpacks so they can hover over the floor without actually touching it.

And no more fingerpaints on the kitchen floor. Or even watercolors. And we'll only eat things that are beige, in case something spills.

Life is grand.

Before


After

I've gone and done it again.

I've bought a huge, HUGE pile of books within the past two months.  I've read them all.  All of them.  Every single last one.  Okay, so maybe there weren't that many.  Maybe there were only 7 or 8*.  I still expect you to be impressed.

Anyway, I'm adrift and bookless, wandering around aimlessly with nothing to read.  Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to fall asleep without a book to read?  I sit there and twiddle my thumbs, and then roam around the house for something, anything, to read.  I won't read a book twice, but I'll dig around the kids' magazines for something interesting.  My priorities are whacked.

You guys gave me some awesome suggestions last time I asked, so here I am again, asking for book recommendations.  Please, would you give me some?  I'll give you a list of what I've read recently so you don't suggest something I've already read (and thereby commit a terrible faux pas -- see how nice I am to spare you that?)

Lullaby -- Chuck Palahniuk
Peony in Love -- Lisa See
Son of a Witch -- Gregory Maguire
Three Cups of Tea -- Mortenson/Relin
The Doctor's Wife -- Elizabeth Brundage
Bodysurfing -- Anita Shreve
In Search of Eden -- Linda Nichols
The Double Bind -- Chris Bohjalian
Red River -- Lalita Tademy
You Suck -- Christopher Moore
Best Friends -- Martha Moody

*or eleven.  But the Chuck Palahniuk book doesn't count, because it's from the library. 

I am so, so tough

I've been painting my old office (blue, if you want to know -- I'll post pictures later).  Painting is nice.  Boring, but easy, and does not involve any sort of dangerously sharp implements.

Bryan has been working on ripping up the disgusting tile from the kitchen, and putting in linoleum.  I was helping last night, because I wanted to be involved.  And, you know, painting is boring, and I was getting a blister from the paintbrush.  Also, I was very excited about the fabulous new floor (I also have before and after pictures, but again, these will come later).

Anyway, he held up the flooring, and I was using this fancy-pants scimitar-looking cutter thing to cut away the excess linoleum.  But, I'm a clumsy fool, and missed the linoleum, and cut the shit out of my hand.

It's really not that bad, but I have a thing with the b-word.  Oh, man.  So disgusting.  And the b-word got, like, all over the place.  (I'm about to pass out writing this.  See what I mean about being so, so tough?)

It was deep enough, and I was freaked out enough, that Bryan rushed me to the emergency room.  The very nice lady doctors there decided not to give me stitches (which is too bad, because I would've felt way manlier if I had gotten some) but they put some steri-strips on there to close it back up.  And I got a tetanus shot for good measure.  All's well, but it hurts to type and to lift things (like a bucket of paint, for instance).

Bryan finished cutting the floor today, and needless to say I was not allowed to help.  I couldn't even watch, really, because I kept chanting "be careful! be careful! watch out!" and that got on his nerves.  Miraculously, he was able to cut the linoleum (and not any of his appendages) and finished that up without my help.

So, the floor looks, like, a million thousand percent better, and it was worth it.  Yes, cutting myself was unnecessary, but whatever.  That's the price of home-ownership, right?  Plus, a little bit of b-word-shed is a small price to pay for new flooring that rocks this hard.