This is what normal looks like:
They never really got to the point of loving the boarding experience. They were boarded at the vet's office, where they have room set up for cats. They were the only two cats there at the time, so they had the room to themselves. Their was a nice big window and a cat tree. Really not bad accomodations, but my cats were not impressed. We visited every day on the way home from work and it went something like this:
Day 1: Cowering in their carriers, mostly ignoring the fact we were there.
Day 2: Both cats curled up together in same cat carrier; Frank came out to see us, but mostly paced like a...well, like a caged animal. We coaxed Zappa out a couple of times, but he wouldn't stay out.
Day 3: Both cats came out for pets, paced around the room, staked out the door; not stupid, my cats.
Day 4: Repeat of Day 3.
I was actually by myself on Day 4, which was Thursday. When I got home, things were quite close to being finished up. The upstairs was done, except for some baseboards and things like that. There was a little tile work left to do on the lower landing (grout), and baseboards, but very close to done. The guys moved our furniture & appliances back to the kitchen and were probably out of the house by 5:30. Husband and I started tidying some things away, and then Husband said we probably could bring the cats home. I looked at the clock and it was 5:45; the vet closes at 6, we had plans to meet friends for dinner at 6:30. I said I supposed we might as well wait, because the vet would want to be closing up.
Then a few minutes later I was calling the vet to ask if we could come for the cats. They are 5 minutes away from our house and I just wanted them home. The vet very kindly agreed and we drove right over.
We brought the cats home, I rushed to get their food and water dishes set up while they paced around checking everything out. Then we had to rush off to meet our friends. By the time we came home, the cats seemed to have decided that everything was satisfactory. They did wake me up a bunch of times during the night - mostly Frank, it's what he does - and in the morning I woke up surrounded by sleeping cats. All back to normal.
By Friday afternoon, all the work was finished and we have our house back. We're still in the process of getting everything back where it belongs - and doing a little decluttering while we're at it - but the end is in sight.
The floor was basically white before, so it's quite a difference and it took me a couple of days to get used to it, but I think it turned out well.
The floor is actually a couple of inches higher now - note the top of the stove in comparison to the counter; they used to be pretty much level.
There was a height difference where the hardwood met the old floor, but now they are almost level, with the tile being just a tiny bit higher.
The stairs used to have carpet, which basically served as cat scratching material and acted like velcro when it came to cat hair.
We desperately need to paint, and we had talked about having it done at the same time (immediately following in the floors), but the floors happened faster than we expected and it felt like enough upheaval for the moment, so the painting will have to wait for now.
I'm glad we waited, because I ended up not feeling well over the weekend and I'm still not feeling great. I don't know if I'm just worn out - things have been kind of crazy for the past 4 weeks - so I'm trying to pace myself at the moment. I have things I need to get done, but I'm taking my time.