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.
11 comments on “Tile Saga: dénouement”
All of this is sensational. The work itself also looks magnificent as though it was done by a pro. Someone at work was having her flat refurbished and had a right ole’ mare with the tiler and you’ve gone and done this all by yourself. You should be proud, kiddo.
I am proud, and proud to have discovered this level of proudness is within my grasp.
You’ll be glad to know that we spent the entire weekend digging holes in the garden so the follow up project is already going brilliantly too. The whole garden looks an absolute state.
Is this your life now? Fixing problems and then causing other problems so you can fix them? Don’t you want to sit down with a lovely biscuit instead?
You’ve just bought a house. Surely you now understand that this is not an option.
I understand nothing.
Biscuits rule!
You can try to sit down with a lovely biscuit if you want, but as soon as you do, you’ll realise with mounting horror that the biscuit is actually a chipped section of skirtingboard, and the lovely is actually a tub of pre-mixed wood filler that has gone hard because it was left out in the garage for too long, and the sitting down is actually a block of sandpaper that has worn through.
You should write horror. Throw in some kind of tap saga and a bit about wallpaper and you’ve got a novel right there.
It is chilling, isn’t it? Maybe I should have a go. Can you put me in touch with your obviously unfussy publisher?
I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously and therefore I will not be sharing Wilfred Chonty’s secret PO Box address or his fax number with you.
Has he planned for the PTSN network switch off? That fax machine’s days are numbered.
There can’t be many Wilfred Chontys in the fax book. We’ll track him down in no time. And when we do, I suggest we set fire to his office.