Saturday, February 18, 2012

Snug as a Bug in a Rug

Saturday:  A day comparable to five other days of the week with Sunday being the one exception.  Whew, gotta love not working.  Been there, done that, paid those dues. 

Sweet One has come down with the crud, that nasty stuff up in the head.  He didn't sleep well last night and finally moved to another bed.  Maybe tonight I will sleep in another bedroom.  This gunk is certainly not something I'd like him to share with me. 

I worked on the pattern for the bathtub tile repair job.  The work can progress once I figure out a decent pattern - but honestly...no pattern really works when you can't find matching tiles.  I seem to prefer the border piece at the top of my area with alternating blue and brown tiles below it.  

Some of my day was spent soaking and cleaning old sheetrock off the back of the rescued blue tiles.  Such fun.  And now my hands are dry and sensitive.  There must be some gloves for tiling people, but surely I can put up 21 pieces without them.  Sweetz has the sheetrock in and it's snug as a bug in a rug.  After I have finalized the tile pattern, it's a matter of snipping a few pieces and adhering them to the sheetrock with tile adhesive.  They dry.  I grout.  I smile forever.  Now, doesn't that sound easy peasy!!! Stay tuned for future grumbling entries.  You know nothing ever goes smoothly so this will be no exception, but I'm willing to give it my best efforts. The  roughest part will be snipping the tiles to fit around the plumbing fixtures. I'm holding my breath that I don't crack any blue tiles during the snipping stage.     

No other projects saw my pretty face today.  I just wasn't in the mood to work on anything.  After all, it's Saturday and it's my day off!  Tomorrow is Sunday and I'm not sure I will tackle getting out to church alone with the rain, wintry mix, and snow the weatherman predicts.  Might stay home snug as a bug in a rug and let the white stuff decide what it wants to do.  I'm getting too old to be out and about on slippery roads. After all, age has its privileges.   

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