Full House

OMG!  My roomy kitchen is swarming with people and clutter!  Here's the contractor and helper ( I really believe the helper helped himself to my antique cokes...catch you up on that story later) and right on their heels is the tile man.  Big pick-up in the driveway; big Navigator on my lawn.  What is it about down here?  Folks just park in your yard, on your grass, with no compunction. 

Everybody is happy and jovial. Until I ask tile man what is he carrying?  Looks like furring strips to me.  This is what he is going to use as the trim for the tile.  "No, you're not. Where's the trim I told you I wanted?"  "I didn't know what it looked like and I don't do wood trim.  I only work with bull nose tile." Say WHAT???? So, here begs the question:  Why didn't you say that when I told you what I wanted.  Thank God, I don't have high blood pressure.  I would have had a stroke.  Added to that, he didn't intend to use cement board around the sink area.  Hellooo!  Oh, yeah.  We're off to Lowes.  I wouldn't even consider riding with him.  I was just that pissed.

Fumed all the way to D'burg and thought that I had it under control.  Until he told me that he hadn't given me the charge for removing the counter tops.  Say WHAT???  That is really between you and the contractor because you had ample time to discuss who was going to do what.  AAARGH!  Mo' money!  Deep down inside, I knew that I would have to up the cash.  I'm seriously counting pennies and hoping that some cash relief will appear in the mailbox in short order.  Good grief.  Back down the road, we go.  Wasted time; wasted money.

Everyone is studiously working. Tile man takes damn near all day to measure, cut, and put down plywood and backer board.  Trim man comes in to do the molding.  Lord bless him.  He showed tile man how to properly cut and fit the wooden trim.  Several pieces wasted.  Mo' money. 

It is late when they leave.  Everyone, except trim man, will return "bright and early" the next morning.  In the meantime, SF and I have had a somewhat inedible meal from E.W. James (remember, I told you that the ladies in B'ville burn) and now, we're looking for something to take off the evening edge.  In case you haven't been listening, the Big Rip is bereft of eateries and everything closes at sundown.  Mickey D's it is.  Ordered two salads.  Didn't have them.  Okay, fish and whatever the substitute is for the Big & Tasty.  Stale and dry.  'Nuff said.

Be safe.  Be Blessed.