More Fun With DIY.

WARNING: F-bombs and bird flippings.

Those who know me know how much I love tiling. It's true! I have tiled lots of stuff in our house - ceramic, vinyl, big and small. Once I even tiled over the floor hatch to the water pipe thingies! That's what happens when The Huz goes away on a trip without me. But sometimes I do manage to glue those tiles where they're supposed to be. I am tiley-wiley.

This was my view the other day:

What is that round circle painted on the floor all about? Who knows?! It was there when we ripped up the old tiles. It makes a fine backdrop for the mess left by the tile-cutter we rented. Can I just say that I loathe the tile-cutting machine with the burning intensity of a thousand suns? That fucker is loud enough to wake the dead in all parallel universes. Also it sprays crap all over the place. Fuck that tile cutter. And fuck this view.

What you see in this next photo is what you get when you buy a 'fixer-upper'.

There was a heater on this wall, but we took it out so I could tile-tile-tile under it. What's behind that bendy bit of wall? Don't look! Fuck that fixer-upper.

Got the whole bathroom floor tiled perfectly and then this little fucker in the corner decided it didn't care about my OCD.

We could have trimmed it to fit, but we'd already brought the tile-cutter back so we could save $75. Fuck you, corner-tile.

Never mind; I'll disguise it with some black grout. I have some left over from the last tiling, uh...incident.

And speaking of grout, this is the sink back-splash, freshly tiled by moi. Just look at that drywall veer!

Nothing is straight or parallel in my universe. Right angles are an expensive fantasy. Fuck these curvy walls, that's what I say.

Oh yeah; because I love challenges so much, here's the World's Ugliest Shower Ever:

It can't be ripped out (or straightened!), so I'll be painting it BLUE and covering it up with the World's Biggest Shower Curtain.

Fuck this fugly shower! Don't even get me started on the toilet.

Story first appeared on Ello.

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About GROUT.

My recent vestibule floor tiling escapades have taken yet another turn for the worse. But it's okay cuz PICKLE Weasel came to cheer me up.

Lady at the specialty tile shop: "Non, Madame Little. Do not seal ze tiles beforrre ze grouting. You must seal zem afterrr applying ze grout."

Moi: "Are you sure? The grout is black; I'm worried the grout will stain them!"

Lady: "Don't worrry Madame Little. Ze tiles will not stain. Follow ze Installation Guide" (points to a piece of paper). "Zeese tiles are verrrry spécial. You must follow ze guide. Now if you don't mind, I will feeneesh my lunch brrreak."

Moi: "Okay."

I followed the Installation Guide to ze letterrr, dammit. I got half way through the grouting and stopped. My tiles are so stained.

PICKLE Weasel to the rescue!

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A Wrecked TILE Dysfunction.

I must say, I rocked at laying vinyl tiles on the mudroom floor. Until the part where I sat down in the glue... yeah, things kinda went downhill from there. And just before starting on the front entrance floor, I discovered that one must not glue expensive ceramic tiles onto a particle board subfloor as it is too unstable. If it gets wet, which it will (snow, hello), the board will swell causing the tiles to lift and crack. Those who frequent this blog even got to see my stabby face.

And here's what I hope will be the conclusion of my foray into DIY floor tiling.

I gave up on the tiling. And like any self-respecting wife who's husband is off in England for SIX WEEKS, I'd decided to take a night off and drink heavily before putting away all the DIY gear. I left the big bag of floor tile cement powder, along with the two big bags of black grout (also powder) on the little rug in the middle of the freshly tiled (with vinyl tiles) mudroom floor.

It was extremely hot so all the doors were open into the garden, in an effort to tempt the breeze into the house. Suddenly, it began to rain. The rain was crashing down!

It was pouring off the edge of the roof, overwhelming the guttering and literally streaming into every open door! I ran to the garden room (the floor of which was also tiled by moi 6 years ago) and discovered it flooded in an inch of water. I shut the door and mopped it up as quickly as I could; I can't even remember what that sub floor was. And just like that, it stopped raining. Yeesh!

I headed to the mudroom and discovered that it was also wet...

...but there was no puddle of water.

Because it had soaked into the little rug in the middle of the room.

And the paper bags of cement and black grout.

I wish I could tell you it ended there.

But it didn't.

My fourteen year old daughter helped me get the soaking wet bag of cement into a black garbage bag and together we managed to carry it into the garage. But the bag of BLACK grout powder split on the teenager and covered her in fine black dust. It didn't help that she was wearing a nice white shirt that she'd recently bought with her own money. So then I got to see her stabby face.

Fun times, right?

Well any ways the next day I went into the mudroom and I see that the tiles I so lovingly glued down on a particle board subfloor had lifted and cracked in what I can only describe as a flash flood.

And the wet cement? Solid.

I literally could not make this stuff up. I never want to see another tile as long as I live.
Can I have a margarita now...?

A note of thanks to my friend Adam for sparking this title with me.

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TILE ...and ERROR.

Some things just won't get done with the husband around. So as soon as he goes away for 6 weeks, I decide to re-tile the mudroom floor and the front entrance! YAY!
Assessment:

The vinyl tiles in the mudroom went down perfectly. Until I discovered that vinyl tiles shouldn't go in a mudroom. After gluing them down. And sealing them. And five coats of wax. Yeesh!
Assessment:

Bought concrete tiles for the front entrance. Discovered they were too thick for door clearance. Aw maaaaan....
Assessment:

Got NEW thin tiles for the front entrance. Laid them down and looking good. Went to mix the glue and discovered I have the wrong kind of sub floor for tiles in that room. Particle board is baaaaaad!
Assessment:

Need to add a layer of 1/4 inch ply, so I get a piece from the garage and lay it on top of the fitted tiles to check if I have door clearance. I do not. But I do have sticky black tar from the sheet of ply smeared onto my shiny new tiles.
Assessment:

Looking more closely at the bag of glue powder, the instructions say to only mix it with this other "special liquid". Never mix it with water. Totally what I was about to do. Do I have this "special liquid"? No.
Assessment:

I can actually do a lot of DIY. But I don't know if I can rip out a particle board sub floor & install a new plywood one. I'm not physically strong enough...and I'd prolly saw my hand off or something. You think sleeping alone in the Big Bed is bad? Try making Bed Angels with a disembodied hand. Or clapping. And who would draw this blog?

So I'm gonna throw in the towel. And the trowel. AND the TILES. I know when I'm beat.
Assessment:

It's all in your attitude, right? WRONG. That first Assessment was totally off. Now I hafta wait for the Huz to come back and fix all this.

I need wine to wash down the irony here. Let's drink!

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EXTREME Home Decorating.

While the Huz is away, the wife will bravely attempt DIY. So begins the tale of the Floor Tiling Extravaganza. Specifically, the floor of the mudroom leading from the kitchen into the garage and garden. I have some beautiful candy coloured vinyl tiles I ordered specially.

First the fourteen year old daughter and I removed the old carpet and brought it to the garbage dump. We removed the boots and coats and crap and cleaned and vacuumed and stuff. Let me just say here that my daughter is awesome and helpful and wonderful. She also has a great sense of humor.

We laid all the tiles out in a zany random pattern (in blatant defiance of all that Martha Stewart holds dear), and I trimmed them and fitted them nice and snug. I actually managed to not cut my fingers off. I did some very difficult cutting including around the water heater and the trap door into the crawlspace. You would be truly impressed.

Then came the gluing. This glue is supposed to be applied and allowed to dry and then you stick the tiles down. It started well but ended badly. I mean I have to do it in sections to avoid stepping on glue, right? But I ended up stepping in the glue anyways, and trekking glue footprints around the house. A few clever people on Twitter suggested putting sparkles on top of the footpirnt which I admit I actually considered. I blame the fumes.

And then I actually sat down on the upturned lid of the glue tub. FML.

That was two days ago. Now I'm in PAIN.
I ask my self WHY? Why am I tiling this floor? I should be paying someone else to do it for me. I should be lying around at a spa relaxing and enjoying life.
Wait, what? ....oh yeah. I do enjoy extreme home-deco. Dang.

The floor will look awesome. The trouble with an awesome looking floor is that the rest of the room now looks like crap. Should I spruce up the rest of the room? No, because that will make the rest of the HOUSE look like crap. Solution? Retrieve the old carpeting from the garbage dump and cover the dang floor with it!

What's your nightmare DIY story?

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