Yesterday, we got the basement carpet up. It had been more or less dry for a couple of days, but we missed the mold deadline by a long way, so it had to go. No underlay, just 675 square feet of stubborn, unyielding fabric, glued fast to the floor. It may not sound like much, but boy did it take some shifting. Every slice of carpet stuck to the concrete like a great sticky thing that didn't want to let go of the...er thing it was stuck to.
It didn't help having to work around the furniture, but after three-and-a-half-hours of sweaty, exhausting work, our once comfy carpet was cut into managable pieces and placed in a couple of dozen extra large garbage sacks.
The basement floor's a mess now. Lots of glue (and a few bits of carpet underside) remain, but that's a job for another day. For now, I'll just enjoy the lack of stinky basement smell and console myself with the knowledge that it could have been so much worse - I might have had to take the carpet up myself instead of just fetching cold drinks for the folks who actually did the work.