He CLAIMS that the living room in a former house required four coats of paint before I found a shade of yellow I liked. In my defense, paint looks so different on those little cards than it does on the wall (this was before paint sample jars). And anyone who loves color knows that yellow can mean so many different food hues: from banana to lemon to butter. I just didn't know what I was hungry for at the time.
So fast forward to this week. Hubby and I readily agreed on the tile for LevelHead Jr.'s bathroom. We chose a white marble with streaks of grey (the room's so small, it was affordable) with a white grout. The two of us actually worked very well together -- we didn't fight at all during installation. We discussed the layout, where to start and how to limit the amount of cuts. It was like a really boring episode of Renovation Realities on DIY network.
The Hubster did an absolutely fabulous job. It looked amazing -- notice the past tense. The problem came with the grout. The package said ''white'', but the manufacturer's definition of the color must read as ''yellow with a tan undertone'' 'cause it looked nothing like the white I expected.
Of course, he applied the grout when I wasn't there so I couldn't stop the madness. He was just finishing up when I arrived. We both hoped it would look whiter as it dried (I was hoping because I wanted a nice bright white to set off the marble; Hubby was hoping so that he didn't have to hear me complain about it ad naseum).
So we're left with beautiful tile and dirty yellow grout. We found a staining pen at the hardware store, so we'll try that out when we have more time (in three years or so).
On other reno fronts, we decided to go with Crazy Chair Drywall Guy (please see earlier post if that name makes no sense). He's saying he'll start the week of Memorial Day.
The shower tiling guy we're hiring in order to save our marriage is arriving at 9:00 tomorrow morning. Mr. Hubby has agreed to meet the guy to explain why he applied the red waterproofing ON TOP OF the dried thinset (tile adhesive) that needs to be chiseled off. If the guy goes running from the scene of the tile crime, we'll have to spend the week removing rock-hard mortar. If he tells us he's seen worse and moves ahead with the project, we'll be able to start work on the laundry room.
On a final note, we now feel our new house is officially home: LevelHead Canine ran away from it on Saturday. LevelHead Jr. and I had just gone. Mr. Hubby was loading up the car, when LHC found an opening and took off in search of deer. And due to the density of Bambies in our town, it didn't take long.
The Hubster then went on a wild deer chase around the east side of town, being told by various neighbors what direction ''they'' went, meaning LHC and the venison she was pursuing at the moment. Just when Hubby had given up and returned home dogless, she showed up at the front door like it was no big deal. How she found her way back to a house she's only been to a few times is beyond us. We're just so happy that she's not directionally challenged.
Below are a few shots of our patchwork ceilings, desperately in need of drywall repair. There's also a shot of Mr. Hubby's beautiful tile work in LHJ's bathroom -- I dare you to tell me that grout doesn't look yellow!
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