This is all that is, really, some laminated particle board planks laid down on top of layers of plastic and foam. So, why is it so wonderful?
Especially when it causes all this disruption--tools and stacks of flooring waiting to be installed as well as displaced furniture that we move through the house in a sort of shell game, keeping it from showing up in the same room as the new floor--what is so wonderful about this floor?
A few things jump out at us after living with our old floor, which was the original parquet, laid in 1969 or so when the building was built, such as what the new floor doesn't do--
--it doesn't give us splinters when we walk around barefoot
--it doesn't get sucked up into the vacuum
..and what it isn't--
--it isn't covered in mold from the old leaks, spills, and other small disasters
--it isn't gray, dried and cracking, and without a trace of any finish, like perfectly milled kindling blocks
--it isn't filled with holes from the thousands of nails, screws, and staples used to hold various pieces of hardware and layers of carpet down
And then there's the new baseboard, which lacks the old baseboard's sedimentary layers of paint (that went back to the paleolithic, I believe) encrusted with remnants of all the past carpets ever installed.
It seems shallow, perhaps, to spend so much time and be so happy about such a, well, shallow development. (Unlike the Colbert Report, which we're watching right now--"grippy.") But there's something thrilling about walking around your house barefoot without having to break out the tweezers.