Zero-VOC Me

Reader Contribution by Staff
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I am an Indian immigrant with brilliant, loving parents who encouraged me to use my head, not my hands. My father spent most of his days peering into a microscope. He did not chop wood or carry water. We did not DIY. Therefore, it’s not surprising that when the gentleman who came to look at my floors said, “Your first floor is oak and your second floor is maple,” it meant nothing to me. In my head, wood was wood, covered by bark. Different trees had different grains and hues, but I was under the impression that any wood could be stained any color. I was wrong.

The primary lesson I learned in my first weeks of home ownership was to let go of expectations. My friend Carol said, “Your house is like a living being. There is only so much you can change.” This was confirmed on a late Friday night when the heavily scratched, damaged and shellacked floors that had been one consistent color were now three colors. (The stairs were a third type of wood — yellow pine.)

The floors are now becoming beautiful. (Lesson 2: Nothing is ever really done right the first time.) And they turned out differently than I expected. (See Lesson 1.)

Let me rewind and explain how I got here. I met Andy, a floor specialist focused on historical restoration, and one of three floor people I interviewed to refinish my floors. (Lesson 3: Get multiple bids to understand the range of costs and then go with your gut.) I went with Andy because he gave me the best offer and I saw how much he loved the wood. He shoehorned my project into his schedule and there is still more to be done — but we are well on our way. (Lesson 4: Do not shoehorn. Always leave room for the unknown: a broken sander, poor lighting or bad weather.)

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