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walkitoutOver today and yesterday, my sister and I have been finalizing a bunch of decisions involving sinks, showers, etc. Mostly this is in bathrooms, but some in kitchens. Yay us! I walked with M. I drafted (several times) and eventually sent an email about the results of all the sinks and showers discussions. And then, I had dinner with R. and the B.’s at Woods Hill Table. It was delightful. I brought some of the chicken home. The coconut sorbet was fantastic. I want to get a bottle of Kings County Peated Whisky; we had some on a flight and it was fantastic. There was a whistlepig on the flight (always good) and something with vertigo in the name (fine), but the peated really stood out.
I was telling the story of the wall tile spec’ed for 3K worth of flooring, that various participants resisted changing. I mean, it just doesn’t get old, and M. totally understood me spinning on the jumpscare film in my head of the tile guy, holding a box of tile, with many more in the background, bags of quickset at his feet and a bucket of water, trowel tucked into a utility belt, saying, “You do realize this is wall tile.” But as I was typing this entry, I realized, you know, I wonder if the engineers have to sign off on the changes to the sinks and showers and so forth. I know they have to sign off on the lighting.
And then I thought, you know, the structural engineer never pointed out the problem with that section of the basement we eliminated — it was identified in a pricing round by the concrete guys. And the engineers didn’t catch the tile problem, either. So Many Questions. How does anything stay standing, really. I used to have nightmares during rainstorms in my current house that I would wake up and the walls were melting because the roof leaked and the wallboard was so soft.
I probably worry a little too much. Not a lot too much. Just a little.
I was telling the story of the wall tile spec’ed for 3K worth of flooring, that various participants resisted changing. I mean, it just doesn’t get old, and M. totally understood me spinning on the jumpscare film in my head of the tile guy, holding a box of tile, with many more in the background, bags of quickset at his feet and a bucket of water, trowel tucked into a utility belt, saying, “You do realize this is wall tile.” But as I was typing this entry, I realized, you know, I wonder if the engineers have to sign off on the changes to the sinks and showers and so forth. I know they have to sign off on the lighting.
And then I thought, you know, the structural engineer never pointed out the problem with that section of the basement we eliminated — it was identified in a pricing round by the concrete guys. And the engineers didn’t catch the tile problem, either. So Many Questions. How does anything stay standing, really. I used to have nightmares during rainstorms in my current house that I would wake up and the walls were melting because the roof leaked and the wallboard was so soft.
I probably worry a little too much. Not a lot too much. Just a little.