HARDWOOD FLOOR CLEANING SUPPLIES : HARDWOOD FLOOR

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Hardwood Floor Cleaning Supplies


hardwood floor cleaning supplies
    cleaning supplies
  • Cleaning agents and small cleaning equipment used in the cleaning of guestrooms and public areas in the hotel.
    hardwood floor
  • Non-resilient flooring of maple, pecan, oak, beech, and various other hardwoods.
  • Wood flooring is any product manufactured from timber that is designed for use as flooring, either structural or aesthetic. Bamboo flooring is often considered a wood floor, although it is made from a grass (bamboo) rather than a timber.
  • (Hardwood Floors) Engineered, pre-finished, click and laminate.

Nineteen Cord of Hardwood Split and Stacked All Nice and Neat
Nineteen Cord of Hardwood Split and Stacked All Nice and Neat
Those barely visible, nice and neatly stacked, piles of firewood over in the woodshed there to the right are just the 'tip of the iceberg' from all that firewood that I split and stacked in the late summertime of 1969. I loved doing it. And you see those piles of wood there that are not covered? Well they got covered with tarps later that day. I can't stand seeing firewood being stored uncovered. Leaving a firewood supply go uncovered wastes the wood by allowing it to get wet from rain and snow and to rot. That makes it very difficult to get a home heating fire burning good with the moist, partially rotted wood. There were two things at Finley's lodge that were never left out in the yard uncovered. One was firewood, the other was tools. Fin stored his rakes, shovels, mauls, picks, mattocks and other garden type tools in a building or tucked up under a building's eave and hanging from some nails--in order to keep rain and snow off the wooden handles and metal heads. Finley K. Clarke never in his life owned a wooden handled garden tool that had any rust or rot on it. I appreciate that. Makes sense to me to take care of the equipment right. You never know when you're really gonna' need it. I believe that splitting wood is better exercise than pumping iron--lifting free weights. Like when using the weight lifting equipment that was set up in the weight room down in the basement of the old YMCA, in my home town of Dundalk, Maryland. During my early teenage years, I lifted weights "at the Y" several times a week. Neither of those two physical endeavours, though, weight lifting or wood splitting, are as good exercise as swimming. During four summers of my youth, from 1961 to '64, I attended Red Cross swimming courses, including a life saving course, and swam many laps every summer at Baltimore County's Merritt Beach, in Dundalk. The beach was right down the street from the home that I grew up in. I was still swimming there regularly in 1965, when Baltimore County closed the beach to swimmers; it was closed due to water pollution from Bethlehem Steel Mill in Sparrows Point, Maryland. Those Red Cross water safety and swimming qualifications made me somewhat more valuable as a professional outdoorsman, a Maine Guide; because I had the ability to save drowning fishermen or fisherwomen, canoeists, boaters, swimmers or somebody who accidentally fell into some deep water. As a teenager, I also used to get plenty of exercise while being paid to mow and trim lawns in the summer, and to shovel snow from sidewalks and driveways during the winter. So ya' see, that 1969 wood spitting and stacking experience was my type of preferred exercise. And that "wood chopping" (a quote from my city kid days) work, like the swimming, mowing and snow shoveling, was all done outside, where I enjoy spending my time the most. Before I started that wood splitting and stacking job each day: I had to water seven hound dogs, two Bobcats and one ornery horse; and I had to help Fin and Gary load some 250 to 450 pound 55 gallon drums full of rotting, stenching, maggot covered bear bait onto Katahdin Lodge trucks. Then Fin and Gary went out riding 'round the beautiful Maine countryside bear baiting. While I worked steady at the hard labor task of splitting and stacking firewood. Later, during each evening: I had to feed and water the animals; and like every other evening during bear season, I had to go out and gather up a few of our paying bear hunters from the woods; I had to track any bears that our hunters had shot at--sometimes with Finley and/or Gary and sometimes by myself; even through the deep, dark woods at nighttime, but always unarmed; if any of our hunters killed a bear, we had to carry it out of the woods to the truck; then we guides had some bear skinning to do, when we finally made it back to the Lodge. Fortunately, during those two weeks, when I was working on that 19 cords of firewood, Monday thru Friday, Fin and Marty only made me mow the lawn and trim the weeds, on their large piece of cleared ground around the Lodge, on Saturday or Sunday. And I was responsible for cleaning up the dog crap. About twice a week, I had to shovel up what the five hound dogs who were chained to five individual dog houses dropped on the ground. About twice a month or so, I had to scrub out the wooden floored dog pen where two Beagles lived. The Bobcat pen got cleaned out about twice a month too. It's a dirty job, but someone had to do it. Animals who rely on human care deserve that kind of good treatment. Except for during those 10 days of building up those humongous stacks of firewood, I performed all of the afore mentioned morning, evening and weekend tasks plus went out bear baiting and guiding bear hunters 6 days a week. Just like Gary and Finley did. I had a lot of fun while doing it all, too. During the entire time that I worked for my Aunt Martha and Uncle Finley, at their Katahdin Lodge and Camps of Patten,
Deep Within
Deep Within
The first blow took her by surprise, catching her upside the head and knocking her clean out of her chair. She landed with a heavy thump upon the hardwood floor, skidding a foot or so before coming to a stop. Shaking her head to try and stop the buzzing in her ears she catches sight of him out of the corner of her eye and tries to scramble up, but she's too slow. He's on top of her in a matter of seconds and has her in a choke hold. She frantically claws at his hands, trying to loosen their death grip, but she is no match for his strength. He pulls her up the wall and bangs her head hard against it, instantly leaving a hole in the sheet rock. "Bitch, no one makes a fool out of me" he leers into her face. Her oxygen supply is fast being depleted and if she doesn't think of something quick she's going to pass out. She summons what energy she has left and sends a quick jab into his adams apple and is instantly granted release as he grabs at his own throat trying desperately to suck in air. She falls once more upon the hardwood and gasps like a fish out of water. I have to make it to my gun she thinks, it's the only way he's gonna stop. She's up on her feet and ready to take off when his hand grips her left ankle and he jerks her back down. "So the little lady wishes to play rough?" He chokes out hoarsely as he climbs on top of her pinning her down with his weight . He gropes her none too gently whispering in her ear...."Daddy's got what cha need little girl", he rises up on both knees and grabs hold of his belt unbuckling it and tugging it from his jeans in one swift movement as if he had plenty of experience doing so. She struggles and almost succeeds in throwing him off her when the belt slides over her head in the form of a noose and he tightens it, once again cutting of her air supply. He laughs wickedly as he pulls her to her feet. Jerks her around and sucker punches her, breaking her nose and sending blood flying through the air as her head arches back. Black spots form in front of her eyes and the room tilts sideways as she drops to the floor, moaning in agony. God....every inch of her hurt. He lets her drop and gives a swift kick to her ribs, instantly breaking two and sending the air rushing out of her lungs. She lays there on the floor in a small pool of blood and watches as he slides his jeans down over his massive legs. Weakly she struggles, trying to get up, but the pain is immense. It feels as if her lungs are on fire and the humming noise in her ears is only growing louder. His erection leaves no mistake as to what his intentions are, as he moves toward her. "I'm gonna give you a night you won't soon forget" he smirks as he tugs at her jeans. She starts kicking but the pain in her side makes the action near to impossible, so in a matter of minutes he has her jeans off and is flipping her onto her belly. God no...is all she thinks as he presses his rock hard member into the soft folds of her backside. Tears are streaming down her face and sobs are racking her body as he cruelly shoves inside of her, tearing the tender flesh there. Screams fill the night and she wonders to herself who is in so much pain as her mind shuts down and folds deep within itself. ~Blue © All rights reserved Jo Lynn Zamudio aka Blue. Please do not use this image or words on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission. *Yes I write, and sometimes it's not pretty, but it's more for me than you, so please no complaints*

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