poplar road

So, when we looked around after lunch on Sunday afternoon, with the sun brightening up the office and great room, and a good breeze to sweep away the sour air, we decided our first task should be the musty upstairs carpeting rather than the basement floor. All the carpeting had to go – I wasn’t going to sleep or work in the house until it was gone – and with Ben and Chris to help, it seemed like an easy chore to give us a sense of accomplishment. We pulled out a few tools and work gloves, and started hauling up the blue industrial stuff in the great room.

Here is a close-up of the previous owners' mystifying choice of carpeting. They must have run out of something – Pergo, carpeting, money, sense – because there was a triangular segment of a different pattern of the industrial blue stuff along the edge of the laminate at the entranceway. Astonishing.

The real surprise, however, was the yellow foam-like substance gluing the carpet to the plywood. When we yanked the carpet back, producing a cloud of dust, the yellow underlay stayed firmly in place. So much for walking around on plywood. And that wasn't the worst of it.

Ben and Chris finished tying up the blue carpet and ripped up the more typical pile carpeting lining the sunken living room which will become my office. In the far corner, where the previous owners had left a large hoya hanging dry, there had seemed to be water damage, and then Ben gave a groan and revealed the stained plywood underneath. No, this wasn't from a leaky plant pot, this was much more potent than that. So this was where the smell came from! Poor Ben singlehandedly rolled up the carpet as I fled the renewed stench. One sheet of plywood was almost black, and this was far stronger than the basement a month ago. We set up both floor fans. Richard then called Ben away to remove the master bedroom carpeting, and Chris took over in the office to remove the strips of carpet nails from the outer edges, since the yellow foam would have to wait for something to scrape it with.

I began removing the drapes, which would need to be cleaned. The bunting went outside to give a flush of pink to our growing trash heap, and the curtains were put out of the way for the time being. Until we're living in the house full time, light and air are better than privacy. Especially air. As Chris helped me pull down the drapes over the gigantic picture window in the office, the smell from the stained plywood was overpowering.

Chris called for the bottle of apple cider vinegar, which according to several pet-owner websites was great for nullyfying urine odours. It did the trick, for a short while, but the drywall along the floor was decayed and Chris suspected the stain went deeper. The wood was almost rotten. We called Richard in from the master bedroom, where he and Ben had begun the equally ugly task of removing the carpet around the ensuite toilet. No doubt about it, the plywood had to come out.

By three o'clock we had one sheet of plywood removed in the office, the offensive carpeting (and the toilet with it) removed in the master bedroom ensuite, drapes tucked away, wallpaper border half gone, and carpet, linoleum, and some lino tiles pulled up in the basement. We also had a lengthy shopping list for a trip to the local hardware store.

I snapped a few photos, and then Chris and I started peeling the wallpaper border from around the ceiling. The paper peeled off quite well as I dug in with my fingernails, starting above the French doors. Ben and Richard headed to the local hardware store in Chase, ten minutes away, and after a few feet of wallpaper, Chris and I took a break for some caffeine and fresh air outside. I couldn't quite believe how much we'd accomplished in such a short time.

When the guys returned from the hardware store, plywood, shovel, screws, drain cover, work gloves (red ones my size!), and snacks in hand, we convened back in the great room to see if the yellow stuff would come off. As I returned to the wallpaper, Ben dug a square-ended shovel into the floor and sloughed off a measely little chunk. But Richard had a grinder, so Ben disappeared into the garage to give the shovel an edge. After a few sharpenings he was making progress. I continued around the room, scattering paper, while Ben took as much of the foam as he could off the floor. The twins took turns with the shovel and the new push-broom, and pretty soon we had a garbage bag full of the stuff. The great room floor will still need to be sanded clean so we can paint it (can't afford to lay wood or tile flooring just yet), but we got the worst of it off.