Follow the Lines

I'm waiting for two tourists to figure out if they want a cappuccino or a lemonade and my eyes are darting around the floor.

Looks good, looks good, looks... wait a minute. That tile is totally crooked. What loser blew that one? Next thing I know the person behind me in the coffee line nudges my shoulder and says it's my turn to order.

---

Leah and I are in a dark and crowded theater watching Public Enemies, when I lean over and whisper in her ear "subway pattern, looks pretty good too" pointing out the wall tile in a bathroom in some 1930s era hotel. She responds "I was thinking the same thing."

---

What can I say, all I see are grout lines and tile patterns these days. Especially after we spent the entire July 4th weekend laying hundreds of ceramic squares in our basement. We haven't even hit the halfway point, but I gotta say it is already a big improvement over the white and pink linoleum. I promise to post pictures next week. I'm hoping to grout it by then.

I'm not about to brag though. If a skilled tile guru walked into our basement he or she would gag for sure. One section has perfect grout lines, the middle of the floor has tiny ones (probably half the size we hoped for) and the far end has mammoth spaces between the tiles. We tried to keep it perfect. We used spacers and the whole bit, but we are total amateurs. Hacks really. Amateur hacks who wing massive tile projects and hope they work out.

Leah tells me our work is "good enough." I'm sure it will be fine, but I need a little more reassurance than that. So I scan every tiled surface I come upon, looking for imperfections. Every uneven grout line, every crooked square makes me feel a little better about our own attempt and all the work that lies before us.