(no subject)
We now have a giant cardboard box containing a 200-lb bathtub in our garage. In the dining room, we have a box of "trim": faucet, shower head, temp-adjusting handle, etc. A sliding glass door for the tub/shower is somewhere between here and the company we bought it from.
But oh the shower tiles. Shower tiles are the bane of our remodeling existence. We had a lot of trouble in the tile store, because we discovered that Shannon and I don't have a lot of overlap in our shower tile tastes. I think we both found the shopping experience mildly frustrating. The tiles we eventually agreed upon in the store were unfortunately ugly when we held the samples up in our actual bathroom at home. The tiles we then decided upon as the best alternative turn out to be "discontinued," and so unavailable. (Why do you have them hanging in your store, then, people?) The saleswoman gave me the number of a store in Walnut Creek that may carry them, but they don't answer their phones, so I left a message on their voicemail today.
We have a contractor. We have a bathtub. We will (I trust) soon have a sliding glass tub door. We have "trim." ("Trim" will never stop sounding like a euphemism to me. Online investigation shows that this is why. It's been causing me excessive silent snickering throughout the shopping for this remodel. "I've been shopping for trim. I found us some trim we'll both like.") The shower tiles alone elude us.
Shower tile! Shower tile! My kingdom for some shower tile!
Also, until we can order and obtain some acceptable shower tiles, and get our contractor to come out and install them, that gigantic bathtub box will be taking up half the available space in our garage. My bike will be hemmed in by a whole lot of potential cleanliness for the foreseeable future.
Tile stores! Set my bicycle free!
In other frustrating news, the wonderful silver ring (sorta Celtic-inspired knotwork) that I bought a few weeks ago on Etsy, and which I subsequently sent back to the creator (at her invitation) to be very slightly resized so that I wouldn't lose it while washing my hands ... well ... that beautiful ring seems to have gone missing in the grubby little hands of the U.S. Postal Service. I handed it into their First Class care on August 2; they said it should arrive on August 6; and it is now August 14, but it never arrived. Neither did it come back. Some damn postal worker is wearing a lovely silver knotwork ring to work today, and I curse her. Fie on you, thieving postal worker!
But oh the shower tiles. Shower tiles are the bane of our remodeling existence. We had a lot of trouble in the tile store, because we discovered that Shannon and I don't have a lot of overlap in our shower tile tastes. I think we both found the shopping experience mildly frustrating. The tiles we eventually agreed upon in the store were unfortunately ugly when we held the samples up in our actual bathroom at home. The tiles we then decided upon as the best alternative turn out to be "discontinued," and so unavailable. (Why do you have them hanging in your store, then, people?) The saleswoman gave me the number of a store in Walnut Creek that may carry them, but they don't answer their phones, so I left a message on their voicemail today.
We have a contractor. We have a bathtub. We will (I trust) soon have a sliding glass tub door. We have "trim." ("Trim" will never stop sounding like a euphemism to me. Online investigation shows that this is why. It's been causing me excessive silent snickering throughout the shopping for this remodel. "I've been shopping for trim. I found us some trim we'll both like.") The shower tiles alone elude us.
Shower tile! Shower tile! My kingdom for some shower tile!
Also, until we can order and obtain some acceptable shower tiles, and get our contractor to come out and install them, that gigantic bathtub box will be taking up half the available space in our garage. My bike will be hemmed in by a whole lot of potential cleanliness for the foreseeable future.
Tile stores! Set my bicycle free!
In other frustrating news, the wonderful silver ring (sorta Celtic-inspired knotwork) that I bought a few weeks ago on Etsy, and which I subsequently sent back to the creator (at her invitation) to be very slightly resized so that I wouldn't lose it while washing my hands ... well ... that beautiful ring seems to have gone missing in the grubby little hands of the U.S. Postal Service. I handed it into their First Class care on August 2; they said it should arrive on August 6; and it is now August 14, but it never arrived. Neither did it come back. Some damn postal worker is wearing a lovely silver knotwork ring to work today, and I curse her. Fie on you, thieving postal worker!