Tea for the Tiler Man

I’m starting this post at 5 PM -- tea time -- because I couldn’t resist the pun, which fans of the artist formerly known as Cat Stevens will get. The tile guy is still here, mortaring the walls and talking to himself. The schedule calls for grouting tomorrow. The square hole in the wall (below) will be the recessed shelf for soap, shampoo, etcetera. Tiled on all surfaces, that’ll take a bit of what quilters call “fussy cutting."

The door guy showed up mid-afternoon to take final measurements for the glass door and panel that will form the front of the shower. At one point four of us plus one dog managed to fit in the bathroom. (I was going for five but Greg, the tile guy, demurred.)

Jer and I had originally spec’d a 20-inch-wide door, narrower than standard, thinking that would leave room on the (thus wider) stationary panel for a second towel rack. But Steve pointed out that we’d have to turn sideways to dodge the shower control. So we added four inches to the door width and will rethink the towel rack placement.

The glass will take a couple of weeks to fabricate, so we’ll be living with our old shower curtain and a temporary rod for a while. No biggie.

Two hours later, done for the day. There was a mishap involving a bucket of water, a stripped-bare subfloor and the guestroom directly below. Oops. But I’m happy with the tile pattern. It’s pretty much as I’d visualized it, solid borders gradually devolving into random floaty chaos. I can relate to that.