A floor by any name is just a floor

Visited the floor guy today....quite an experience.  I was able to tell him what we did not want more than what we wanted as a floor in the new house.
For economy reasons, cardboard was my first choice.  But someone said that was not good enough for her.  Ditto the paint the underlay brown idea.  Because of allergy concerns, we also ruled out sod.  Figured I would not have to cut it much since it was inside.
I know more about flooring now than I did a year ago.  I learned the flooring I really, really, really liked won't work for us.  It is a hand-scraped reclaimed white oak with a dark brown stain.  But when we actually saw and felt a sample, we realized it was not for us.  There are ripples, by design, in the wood and I am afraid it won't be smooth enough for us old farts.
Pre-finished flooring was an option, but the beveled edges and less than natural look on some of the samples wasn't what we were looking for.
Once we found a red oak we liked, then we had to talk about patterns, sizes, effects, finishes, timing and a whole bunch of other stuff that I may not have paid the utmost attention to.
I know it will be over the allowance provided by the builder.  I just don't know if it is two fingers or one arm over.  Once we get an estimate I think I will feel better.
Did you know you can take Oberweise Dairy bottles back to the HyVee in DeKalb and get $1.50 per jug?
I figure if I can collect 50,000 jugs, I'll have enough to pay for the carpeting and wood flooring.
When I was a kid I used to pick up empty pop bottles and get 2 cents for every one I returned to the store.  Maybe I can do the same with milk jugs.
For those of you under age 85, pop was not sold in cans long ago.  Bottles were the only option.
I was about 13 and playing ball at Ravenswood School.  There were a whole bunch of us and we sent one of the younger kids to the store for pop.  He had to get six bottles.
When he came back empty handed, we were puzzled.
"Where's the pop?" I asked.
"Guy took it," came the tyke's reply.
"Guy? What guy took our pop?" I asked.
Little tyke turns his tearful head to two guys by the school, smoking cigarettes and drinking what looked like Dr. Pepper.  Our Dr. Pepper.
"They took our pop." I say to the seven other guys with me.  "I say let's go get it."  Murmurs ... yes, ok, yeah ....rise up from the masses.
So we tromp across the playground, 7 young Turks ready to rumble.
"Hey, you."  I said.  "You took our pop."
Taking a slow drag, followed by a slower swig, big oaf laconically says, "So?"
"Well we want it back.  Or you gotta pay us."  I say.
"Who's we squirt?" big oaf asks.
I turn around and see seven guys on the far side of the field, playing ball!
Seeking a graceful, yet not completely symbolic retreat,  I continue.  "Then give me the empties."
"Sure, " big oaf grins and smashes a bottle at my feet.
"Thanks" I sneer, and turn to go back to the game.
I did have to check my pants to see if I wet myself......but realized I was so thirsty I probably couldn't.
Which has absolutely nothing to do with flooring.
Except to make sure that it is water and urine proof.


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