We worked on the bathroom project.
Last year, before I left for California, our bathroom was going to be reinvented. But because of family matters more pressing, the bathroom project went on hold. Yesterday we restarted were we had left off.
We started by scrapping off the paint from the old claw foot bathtub.
That has sat outside in our garden since last February.
"Doesn't the dust looked magical as it billows overhead against the crystal clear sky."
French Husband chimed in, "That is one way on looking at it. Certainly, it is lead paint you know."
He is a realist. I am the one with my head in the clouds, lead or otherwise.
Next on the list of: "Things-We-Might-Do-By-Ourselves" was the floor tiles.
We carried the flooring upstairs.
I begged him, "We can do it ourselves… it will be fun…"
We sat on the cold floor ready to begin, the floor stretched out like the solar system before us.
Our knees, bottom and hands soon were frozen like ice.
He knows I am not a handyman.
I know he is not a handyman.
"Corey you do things by approximation…" and before he could finish his thought, I tossed in, "… and you do things by being exact."
We promised not to get mad, or frustrated or to quit.
I was the cleaner-upper, the go-getter, the cheerleader…because after several tries of cutting the floor tiles I realized that each and every pattern I cut was backwards.
Being dyslexic does not show off in times like this.
He methodically, systematically placed the flooring perfectly.
I was impressed.
He was impressed.
We laughed.
In the background 1980 disco music played. It kept our promise in order.
I cannot wait to dance on that floor, even if it is in the bathroom.
Note: This project is ongoing and I will keep you posted on the results.
P.S. French Husband's yogurt is interesting… recipe to follow when it is perfected.
Leave a Reply