Floored

We spent Monday unpacking and storing: Jerry's breastplate and helmet for Fantasy Fest, the light shield Ray fabricated to cut glare on the stairway sconce, 10 pounds or so of coffee (so much cheaper on the Mainland), a dozen packages of pecans from Ellis Bros. (I was so sorry to hear that Miz Irene had died; her pralines live on!), the usual flip-flops and T-shirts and sweats. . . .

And then we got down to the carpets.

Two blisters and three quarts of sweat later, Robert had cut the pads (well, I found a quick way to cut the den pad with a good knife, but he did the scissor work on the others), and we finally had everything down. He still thinks the big Tabriz has to come out a few inches, but I like the way the medallion kisses the long sofa.

Besides, my back isn't quite ready to move everything off and back on again.