This is what Ross’s hands look like.
And that’s most of the time! He enjoys nothing more than being under something, working on it.
And when he says, Will you make me a sandwich? you really want to–because you don’t want him to touch anything!
Ross is still here, by the way, and will be here for a few weeks, until time to report to his submarine.
Posted by Suzanne McMinn | Permalink
I went shopping today for flooring for the studio, dragging Dave and Matt along with me. I started out with two options in mind: 1) real tile, or 2) commercial vinyl tile. In both cases, I was taken by the idea of black and white tile, installed on the diagonal. I thought that would look so pretty! Earlier today, a friend said to me, “If I came to your studio, dropped something, and broke your floor, it would ruin my entire time.”
Hmmm. There are a lot of negatives to real tile. Cold, hard, potentially slippery, and it can crack–and will certainly shatter anything breakable dropped on it. And I wouldn’t want anyone to feel bad if they dropped a heavy pot during a cooking class and broke a tile. Back to considering the commercial vinyl option. I was torn between the two options. Torn, I tell you!
Of course, once I was in the flooring department, I was overcome by so many other choices, and of course, I ended up choosing neither of the original options.
As it happens, real tile in solid colors isn’t easy to find these days. Solid colors aren’t that popular, so they don’t carry them in in stock. Everyone wants pattern and texture. Solid black and white tile is a special order. That’s almost hard to believe, but I’ve been to the store, people! You can’t find it!
Already wavering on my real tile desire, I decided to check out the commercial vinyl. Here’s the closest I could come to my black and white tile dream in vinyl.
Everything has pattern to it. No solid colors. Close, but…. I just wasn’t excited by the black and white in vinyl. It made me feel like I was in an elementary school or a hospital.
Then I was sucked in by the vinyl plank flooring displays.
THIS IS MY FLOOR!
I chose the dark one in the middle.
It’s not at all what I went to get, but I fell in love with it. It looks very much like real wood, but it’s not. It fulfills the health department requirements. (Relatively smooth, durable, and non-absorbent.) It didn’t cost very much more than the commercial vinyl, and it was a lot less expensive than real tile. I think it will look gorgeous in the studio.
My photographer friend Jerry lives near there and sneaked up on me in the flooring department.
This is me telling Matt and Dave, “Here’s my latest greatest idea!”
Matt and Dave: “We’re never gonna finish this project, are we?”
That’s how most of our conversations go.
(I’m just kidding.)
Anyway. I have a floor!
Well, not exactly, but I have a floor in boxes!
I love my Maude, and my white pickets, and my lilacs, and my mulched garden!
I’m now six-tenths of a master gardener. I’ll be glad when this class is over because it’s more than an hour away and is really killing me. We all have to start giving mini-presentations over the next few classes and I must be insane because I volunteered to be one of the first ones and give a thing on edible flowers and flower jellies next week. Although this is a good direction for me to take and stick to since I don’t really know that much about actual gardening. Garden crafting and canning. There is my forte! In my master gardener volunteer work, they need to slot me in garden entertainment and keep me away from disseminating any actual information.
In other news, I’m off to Lowe’s today with Matt and Dave to make a final decision about flooring in the studio. Update later! (I’m torn between real tile and commercial vinyl tile. I prefer the look of real tile, but am leaning again toward commercial vinyl because I’m scared of breaking tiles with the heavy use and equipment that the studio will receive….. Sigh! Real tile is so much prettier. But I’m not sure it’s a good idea. I have to decide TODAY.)
Posted by Suzanne McMinn | Permalink
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
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