Shiny like a roller rink

I have been bitching to Matt for two years now about our wall-to-wall carpeting in our living room. When a friend accidentally spilled red wine on it, I cheered. When Penny got sick on it, I secretly thought about the lovely stain it would leave as I comforted her (and yes, I comfort my dog, gosh darn it). So when Matt, out of the blue, said, "Do you want to take the carpet up today?", I said YES. (I guess my hummus put a carpet-y spring in his step.) I was fearful of the condition of the wood underneath, and I shouldn't have worried: it's all sorts of lovely and brightens up the room. I don't really know what our style is, but I'm going to call it "library chic". No laughing!

Here are my self-congratulatory photos. I also want to note I didn't just sit there and watch Matt do all the heavy-lifting. If he tells you otherwise, he's lying. That's one aspect I miss about being sick: you get out of everything.

Before.

Mid-way.

And after!