© 2011 Becca. All rights reserved. 40298766.CountingSheep

Shag Pile

Childhood memories (if they serve right and haven’t yet been dented by alcohol) have me rolling around the vast swathes of pure wool, textured Berbers, Axminster and Polypropelyne when younger, chasing down either one of my two younger siblings. This was carpet shopping.

Like a giant soft play it must have been a dream shopping experience for Parents; three hyper monsters; one large, gentle playground. Perhaps it really was, which is why I have such vivid memories of purchasing flooring. I am sure we didn’t change the flooring as often as once a week, although six small hands spill pleanty.

Carpet shopping as the grown-up purchaser (where other shoppers frown on you for rolling down the rolls and unravelling the bargain covering) is lose-the-will-to-live dull. Soul destroying. The vast choice is vastly depleted when the sky is not the limit.

Somehow laminate has me better captivated.

Perhaps it is the large choice of such different coverings that appeal, thirtyseven different varients of  graphic ‘Oak’ glued to hardboard for example (and this is just B&Q). And then Walnut, Accacia, Birch, Ash, Wenge, Hornbeam, topped off with the marvelous newly-invented Stone laminate. Or perhaps it is a subconcious realisation that laminate is spill-proof, clumsy, drunken, make-up proof and will prevent (numerous) severe scolding(s) from Significant Other. Yes, flooring shopping was much more fun as a child – you were never told off for destroying the pile.

 

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