Category: Smooth

Avatar Tile Saga: dénouement

Time to wrap up this saga. The tiling is complete, at least until I get round to starting the other bit of tiling around the worktop at the other side of the utility room.

Here’s the epilogue, expressed in short form because life is short:

  • Grouting is great. Tiling was a pain in the backside but I could spend a lot of time grouting. It’s not difficult and the results are instantly gratifying. Slopping grout into all the gaps covers a multitude of sins, instantly makes your tiles look good, and ten minutes later you wipe off the excess with a damp sponge and the job is done. All DIY should be like this.
  • Silicone sealant can mack right off. I’ve dabbled in this before, and hated it. Now I’ve done it more extensively to finish this tiling job and I hate it even more.
  • I haven’t yet sealed one side where the tiles meet the back wall of the room, because I put super gentle non-peel expensive Frog Tape on the wall to protect it from the grout and when I carefully peeled it off according to the instructions the super gentle non-peel expensive Frog Tape took all the paint off the wall, which I only painted a couple of months ago. So now I have to repaint that part before I can put a line of sealant there.

Now I get to move on to another job, and commence Raised Bed and Gravel Path Saga. Watch out for this year’s longest and most self-pitying read, coming to a Beans near you this autumn.

Avatar Marshall Box

I’ve been working where I work for a long time. Years. Maybe hundreds of years. I can’t remember.

Anyway, the delightful thing about working here is that I’m still discovering new things. The other day, for example, I went into a room I’m sure I’ve visited countless times before, but I noticed something new. Something important.

I found my box.

Avatar Cafetiere

I was given some free coffee so I bought a cafetiere to brew it up and enjoy the fresh taste of morning brown. The coffee was strong and rich so my taste buds, what little I had left, were in a joyful mood. Reuben tried some and instantly dismissed it. Now whenever he sees the cafetiere in the cupboard he refers to it as “middle class bullshit.”

There is a time for instant coffee and there’s a time to whip out the cafetiere. There’s also a time when you need to take a 600 million pound bag of tea and brew up some dirty black tea for you to enjoy, possibly whilst rocking back and forth in the corner of the room, but thankfully I haven’t quite reached that point yet.

Whilst musing on the wonders of life I came up with this playful little ditty. You can sing it or you can recite it like a spoken word poem:

Cafetiere, cafetiere,
Long of taste and long of flair.
Cafetiere, your juice is fair,
Pour some for your closest frere.
Pour some for Jim, Danny or Claire.

Hint of peach or hint of pear,
Think there’s nothing going on in there?
Au contraire, my cafetiere,
The savoir faire of cafetiere,
The savoir vivre of cafetiere.

Yeah you’re right, I made it up on the spot and that’s what makes life so great. Next time you’re brewing some coffee perhaps you’ll come up with your own song.

Avatar Four Word Reviews: Christmas

So, it turns out that tomorrow is the first day of May, and not as I had assumed another day in April. That means that this post is being thrown online in a hurry so that it counts towards my April beans and not my May beans.

Anyway, since it’s April, and since it’s Four Word Reviews time, tradition dictates that we must listen to a Christmas album. In Aprils gone by we have heard from Mahalia and Barbra Streisand. This year we’re going for the big one: Christmas, the 2011 album by Michael Bublé. It rewrote Christmas music as we know it – a solid album of Christmas classics, reworked by the smoothest sounding chart act since Sade stopped releasing new music. Now everyone comes along and releases a few slick Christmas cover versions every year. Especially Michael Ball.

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Avatar Four Word Reviews: King of Stage

After four long months – that’s over nineteen weeks, if you’re counting, or more than a third of a year – I have finally returned home. Just temporarily, for now, you understand: Steve Stevingtons has an important three week “Malcolm in the Middle” conference to attend, so the place is empty. But temporarily or not, here I am. And if I am back at my desk again, you know what that means: it’s time to grit my teeth and endure another dreadful album of unknown provenance. Today, we subject ourselves to Bobby Brown’s 1986 debut album, King of Stage, released when he was just 17.

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Avatar Random Sandwiches

Let us address the elephant in the room. You are so predictable. You are so absolutely boring when it comes to food and you know it; each and every time you wander into a supermarket, a corner shop, a Subway you purchase / order the same thing. They have a full menu of sandwich fillings and all of them are ignored so you can eat the same dull slice of nourishment.

You need to buck your ‘chude up, sunshine. You think your good lady wife is going to stay with you and your sluggish Ham ‘n’ Cheese forever? No way. Both of you are teetering on the edge of a marital precipice and the only way to tip it in the direction of the future is to fill your plate with something different. Grab your raincoat and follow me.

Nestled in the wonderful corner of the world that is somewhere nearby, Random Sandwiches offers a world of culinary perfection unseen in the rest of the country. Their list of fillings would blow your mind if you saw it in person and so everyone who wanders into the shop must wear a blindfold, and have it read to them by a woman with a posh voice.

The most popular flavours at the moment are as follows:

  • Jagged glass and American irony;
  • Rubber dingy, yeast and sun-bleached afternoons;
  • Heron and scotch egg;
  • Two lemons encased in a pagoda of dreams;
  • Swordfish eczema on naan bread, smothered in forgotten dances from the 1920’s’;
  • A fresh pair of stressed socks under a splodge of elk light bulbs and mayonnaise.

I don’t know about you but my mouth is already watering as I finished typing this. I can’t wait for them to re-open after the lockdown so I can grab a patronising handshake on rye and crisps for lunch.