Stone-walling

Next in our mini-series of mundananity from the life of Tony...

Over a year ago, I bought some very attractive stone tiles for Amy's bathroom. (Amy's bathroom because she gets creative control over decorating it. Likewise, we have Tony's kitchen, which I expect to be thoroughly updating soon). These stone tiles, made of dozens of roughly 1 inch round stones mosaiced onto mesh tile, were promptly "installed" in the storage area of the basement (which is a bit of a redundancy, as that is what the entirety of the basement is). For almost a year, they waited for me to find (a) the time, (b) the knowledge and (c) the motivation to put them up above the shower in the bathroom. Sometime around about Christmas, I found all three.

Well, at least two of the three. Knowledge would come with experience.

It was knowledge that had kept me from the task for a year. I'd find a good, sturdy book on tiling. Filled with helpful illustrations and blue boxes with important notes and clarifications off to the sides. And without fail, it would omit explanation of how to do a step, make assumptions that one knows things that one resorting to this type of book wouldn't know, or offer instruction that went contrary to the previous books instruction.

Finally, I sat down with 4 different references, cross-examined and compared the information, and was confident I had constructed a workable plan for my project. So off to Lowe's I went for supplies. I've found Lowe's to generally be filled with people who are neither helpful nor knowledgeable, and have had many frustrated experiences there. This was not one of them. I found a salesperson who, before I knew it, had corrected half of my misguided 'plan', picked out my supplies, and given me a clear, straightforward to-do instruction list. Which worked very well.

Until the end.

For those who don't know, once you've got the tiles stuck to the wall, you have to mix the grout and smear it over the surface, getting it all between the cracks. The grout sets quickly (20 minutes, I was told) so once you start, there isn't time to waste. So, I mixed double the amount of grout I expected to need, just to be safe, checked that I had everything I might need on hand, stepped up onto the ledge of the tub, and set to work. Scooped a good pile of grout on my trowel, lifted it over my head to the wall above, and watched as gravity took hold of the grout and plopped it toward the tub's floor.

And it sets quickly remember. So I couldn't just say 'bah, I'll clean it up later'. I might risk having a permanent concrete-like lump in the middle of our bathtub. So I set to cleaning it up. Returned to, more carefully) spread the grout on the wall, occasionally dropping bits and slightly larger bits along the way. And, having lost so much grout to gravities seductive call, I got halfway done and had run out of mixed grout. Now panic was setting in. I'm mixing, I'm cleaning, I'm trying in vain to smear this cake batter-mixture from hell on the wall above me rather than below me, and cursing like a pirate with turret's all the while.

Amy choose this moment to treat herself to some coffee. Someplace far away from home. Smart girl.

In the end it looks very nice, with some incidental grout splatter on the joining walls and ceiling. I may get around to sanding them off before next year.