I can't sleep. Yesterday, as I was cleaning the nonsense off of my entry porch in an attempt to be able to walk out the door I discovered this:
Okay, so truthfully, I yanked a section of the nasty indoor outdoor carpeting up (in a state of complete disgust at the previous owners of the house for putting carpeting in a three season porch) in hopes of finding a useable subfloor and instead found dreamy tiles.
Our house has been a nightmare of beautiful flooring hidden under super glued indoor/outdoor carpeting. When we moved in there was nary an inch of flooring (bathroom and kitchen included) not covered in the crap.
The porch carpeting is so nasty that in some spots it looks like just mud. It makes me instantly angry every time I open the door actually, so you can believe me when I say I did the Carlton and cursed old Ruth and Cederic (the carpet lovers of yore) with the foulest words I could think of.
So now I can't sleep. I am thinking of how lovely it will be to step onto a porch free of a congealed grime rug. I want to paint the walls (which are dark brown splintery wood paneling) and the door and make it a spot we can actually use instead of just a hot stinky mess.
This is the stuff dreams-or rather, early morning blog posts, are made of.