Spent in anticlimatic

At some point in the 1930s someone mopped black mastic tar, mostly from recycled tires, across my beautiful old growth wood floors, and parting my planks with this black goo has proven difficult.

But not impossible.

After much experimentation, trial, error, various rented tools- I found a very special 4” angle grinder attachment that strips it somewhat neatly while somewhat preserving the wood below.

But I have to be careful. I can chew a hole straight into the basement if I don’t hold it extremely tight. Effective as it is, it’s still not easy. Especially since I am balancing stripping the wood of tar and paint with preserving as much of the wood’s thickness as possible.

The more I did it, the more it made sense. The more I found specific fine tuned tactics that were faster, and more effective. But the longer I worked, the more my arms and shoulders burned up and gave out- until towards the end, just as I was really getting into the groove of it, I had to quit.

Body physically gave out.

Isn’t that just the way it goes?