Like I said before, my grandpa was a notoriously do-it-yourselfer. He was insanely smart about some thing, but like myself he knew just enough to be dangerous. We went to the re-store store (if you don’t have one in your area, your missing out) to pick up the tile. Mom settled on a pretty robin’s egg, complete with speckles, blue terra-cotta tile. Then we ran over to Lowes to purchase the accoutrements to finish the projects.
While we were in the store, we bought a tile cutter the helpful clerk says all the professionals buy. It works on all types of tile, but one. Three guesses and the first two don’t count as to what type of tile we had in the back of the car. That right! The one type that the cutter wouldn’t work on. We practiced on some tile that happened to be in the basement. After we, including my five-year old son, decided we were expert tile cutters we moved on to the real thing only to find that it didn’t cut it so much as break it into smaller pieces.
Did that dissuade Lucy and Ethel? Hell no! It gave us an excuse to buy a wet saw! Where did we set it up? Right in the middle of the kitchen table. Now as I mentioned before, the tile was some variation of terra-cotta with a blue glaze. The box said it was “earth product” which made me think of cheese product. Which made me wonder what it actually was made of and whether it would give me cancer
I set the saw up according to the directions in the box and promptly got an impromptu shower and well as an ugly grinding noise coming from the machine. Fearing for the safety of my fingers, I turned off the saw took it back apart, made sure everything was tight, and closed it back up.
I start slapping the mud/glue stuff on the wall and setting the tile. so far so good. I move my way up the wall, using the level ever few tile to make sure everything is straight. (I have more tools than some guys. My mom’s friend in Kansas quoted Helen Reddy saying, “I are woman hear me roar!” about us.) When I got the corners of the bathroom the tile had to be progressively cut wider and wider. (I’ll post pictures later) The side where the faucets were matched up the wall around the window but the back of the shower matched up with nothing. Mom and I came to the conclusion that the bathtub curved up in the back and now there is at least a 1/4 inch discrepancy in the corner. SMH. Face palm.
On a side note: the saw as I was cutting the tile it sprayed the rust colored water all over the kitchen and all over myself. I was wearing a Fitbit as I was cutting and at one point the Fitbit shifted. I looked like I had just came back from the Caribbean. I don’t tan and I had a faux tan. I might start grinding up terra-cotta tile, mix it with water and sell it as a fake tanner to Donald Trump and others.
On a secondary side note: the saw sprayed a fine shower of water straight back from the saw itself and for the most part I blocked the spray. Occasionally it seemed that I moved just enough for it to hit the refrigerator behind me, making it look like I had explosive diarrhea.
On a tertiary side note: I did not have explosive diarrhea.