What would the insects do?

The holiday weekend is upon us, with its promise of time with family and friends, barbecues, perhaps a last chance to go to the beach, a trek through lumber yards.

That last option is how our weekend is shaping up, anyway.

In the midst of home renovations, our contractor informs us that the wood floor we were planning to paint must be torn up and replaced. He tells this to two people who cannot make decisions, who have lived with beat-up wood stairs for four years because they cannot agree on paint colors. Now these two people are expected, in a matter of a few days, to research, decide upon, and procure several hundred square feet of finished, antique reclaimed flooring.

Finding an entire new house would not be as difficult. In fact, it would probably be easier.

With a busy schedule, Joe sent me out to visit Flooring Warehouse #1 by myself. The man in charge, a very pleasant personage with the unfortunate name of Cletus, spent a great deal of time trying to explain complicated wood flooring concepts to me, such as "maple," "oak," "pine," "walnut," "expensive," etc.

Finally, after the store's closing hour had come and gone, he suggested I take home a couple of samples, and after a painful process of elimination, I chose two. One for Joe, and one for me. His was polished, very attractive maple. Mine was old barn wood on which, if one squinted hard enough, could be seen the imprint of cows' hooves.

The man very eagerly carried them out to my car, it now being way past closing time, and assured me that we could keep them for a few days.

A few days. It had taken an hour to decide which samples to take home, and he thinks we can make a decision on them, a decision that will impact an entire lifetime, in a few days?

But Joe actually made that decision very easy for us.

"You brought walnut?" he said.

"I thought you liked walnut," I said.

"Sure I like walnut. It's like the most gorgeous wood there is. But how much is it?"

"Uh, we sort of skipped that part," I said.

"What about the other sample?"

"Uh, we skipped that part too."

Joe sighed and touched the walnut sample reverently. "If I were an insect," he said decisively, "I'd eat only walnut."

It looks like the insects will have to be disappointed. It's possible they might like barn wood, but they shouldn't get excited just yet. We have about 400 more warehouses to go.