kinfolk, smoked chicken, and a wetsaw

As usual, I'm exhausted. The weekend was action packed. Stardate 0004.0007.2006 4:15pm.

The tile came into Morris Tile and I jet across town to get there before it closes at 5pm. I arrive and I am standing there at the counter.

So here is the insight into my mindset in this situation... an interior being John Malkovich... look at me.

I hope they have the tile. They said it was going to be here today, but it would just be my luck that they are going to say something happened between the last truck stop and here. I called this morning and they said the truck from Texas was in Gaithersburg and would be coming through to this location in the afternoon.... but like I said... just my luck... Okay okay... what's next...? I'm going to have to fit this tile in my car. I might as well carve out a space in the backseat. I wonder how many tiles I ordered? Is it in a crate? why am I here? Why am I trying to pick up a full order of tile in an Accord filled with shoes, a tent, a crumpled set of drawings, mail, work documents, house documents, water bottles, laser level, etc...?

Got the tile... it fit somehow and I made a move to the homefront. Flash forward 24 hours and I have convinced myself that between my current abilities and the inherent tiling abilities genetic passed on to me, I decided to forgo any 'professional" assistance for the tiling. We laid the hell out of that tile over the weekend.

Kitchen Floor... DONE First floor bath... We poured a new concrete floor and then laid in the tile last night. I'm talking wet saw tile cutters spinning, adhesive compound mixing, grout wiping, 3/16 spacer using... It was serious. It was a great collection of family/friend support spilling itself all over the house.

I'm on my way to the house now to finish cutting some tile so I can take the tile cutter back to home depot before my 24hr window is over.