We did finally get the slab all cleaned up and the tile floor installed. The result is great… it totally justifies the 10 hours of backbreaking work getting the vinyl floor out of the kitchen — but only, I admit, because I didn’t have to do it myself. Nothing would justify that!
We survived the minor inconvience of not being able to enter the front half of the house for a few days… an easy task compared to what the contractors were going through.
The tile is an 18'' x 18'' ceramic from Italy, with a slight texture to the surface. I like it on the floor even better than I liked it in the showroom. It complements the 3 shades of brick better than I expected it would.
Next up: baseboards, windowsills and framing, and then a home-office remodel that will take weeks. This homeowner stuff never really ends — by the time we get “done” we’ll have outgrown the place, and we’ll be starting fresh somewhere else.
This is a transcription of a groove performed by Herman Matthews III on Drum Workshop’s American Dream II video. The look on Matthews’ face as he lays this down is pure funk.
1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + (1/4 = 110 bpm) RB x x x x SD o o O o O KD o o oo o HH x x x x
Patronize these links, man:
So I’m standing in the security line at the airport. A woman ahead of me has had her carry-on rejected by the X-ray operator, for she has made the grave mistake of attempting to bring a tiny pair of scissors aboard the flight. The entire line of would-be travelers had come to a standstill while the airline security staff picked through the woman’s bag, emptying it piece by piece, magazine, toothbrush, socks, chewing gum… I waited impatiently. I even muttered. OK, I admit it, I said it out loud: “I guess she doesn’t read the newspaper.” I was incapable of understanding how someone could be so daft as to try to bring anything on board an airplane that would warrant a second glance from the armed guards at the security checkpoint, and I wanted everyone within earshot to know it. Finally the technician located the manicure kit that had caught the attention of the scanner. The technician confiscated the scissors, repacked the bag, and the line took one grudging step forward.
My wife’s bag rolled down the conveyor. “Got two files here,” the operator sang out. The line stopped again while my wife’s stuff was unpacked, the nail files confiscated, and the muscly soldier guys with automatic weapons rolled their eyes. “Sheesh, you don’t read the newspaper either” I said aloud, although somewhat more quietly than before.
The X-ray operator sang out again. “Pocketknife,” he said, handing off yet-another carry-on bag for closer inspection. I am surrounded by idiots! I began to scream, until I saw that he was holding my bag.
And so it was that along with a variety of manicure scissors and nail files and a lot more Swiss Army Knives than Switzerland has ever had soldiers, my tiny pocketknife, which I thought I’d lost years before, was tossed into a locked metal box behind the more imposing of the two tall guys with rifles. I wonder what they do with all that gear.
On a related note, why exactly are the armed guards wearing camouflage suits inside the airport?
It’s a floor wax! No, it’s a dessert topping!
Although he denies that he’s a “cheese whiz,” which incidentally is the best pun I’ve heard since MeFi went crazy with horse humor a few weeks ago, reader Chris Thompson wrote in to point out that the World Cheese Index indeed has entries for the letters I’d missed in my cheese alphabet.
Kraft’s Cheez Whiz is no doubt a fine product, and I have no intention of disparaging it here, even if it is listed on Ray’s List of Weird and Disgusting Foods and contains as many types of preservatives as types of cheese and in addition to making a tasty snacktime treat, doubles as an effective laundry detergent.