Waking early on Christmas Eve because of I had become accustomed to my predawn workday schedule, I found myself with little do to and plenty of energy with which to do it. (Mind you, getting up at 8:30 in the morning was sleeping in.)
So, I took the floor scraper to the nasty blue-green linoleum tiles covering the original hardwood floors. Most of the wood seemed to be intact, which was a huge relief. The adhesive was more stubborn in certain sections, and some kind of wood filler apparently had been used.
Thankfully, I didn't have much trouble popping off the tiles, finishing the entire living room and most of the dining room by noon, after which I began my shopping.
The tedious part, as always, would be disposing of the debris. Nothing a good supply of contractor trash bags wouldn't take care of, though.
Why is demolition nearly always the fun part?
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