Timehop has been reminding me that 4 years ago we were in the last weeks of renovating the old house and getting ready to move in. So much life has happened in 4 years and while it feels like a lifetime, it also feels like the blink of an eye.
One of the many memories that have popped up are the floors.
Most of the house had original hardwood oak floors. They were grimy and gross but after they were sanded we were able to see the beauty of the wood.
From the very first time we stepped foot in the old house, in the pathway from the front door to the kitchen, there is a noticeable squeak in the floor.
I have always loved the squeak.
We could have repaired the floor and removed the squeak but every time I step on the board and hear the squeak I think of the MANY people who have lived in this old house. Way back in 1903, when the house was built, a family walked on the squeaky floor as they stoked the fire.
I hear the squeak as people have paced back and forth by the stairs as they have waited for someone to come down. Maybe a bride? Possibly they peeked up the railing waiting for news of sickness or of a new life that has just arrived. We’ve had two babies born in this old house. Dad also took his last breath in this old house. Those memories cannot be denied.
If we fixed the squeaky floor we would miss the squeak as little men run, walk and currently crawl from room to room
This morning as I had trouble staying asleep, I retreated to the living room so as not to wake Mr. as I continued to toss and turn.
I know exactly where the squeaky floor is, and I stepped to the side of the board as to not wake anyone.
As COVID19 has halted the inviting of people over to share a meal or a game of cards, the squeaky board will be waiting!
I am grateful for the squeak in the floor.
Have a great Thursday,
The girl who might need a nap