I feel really, genuinely sorry for our bathroom fitter. If ever there was a man who has earned every penny of his fee it is this one, for putting up with clients who feed him dog milk and then mess him around mercilessly.
The list of fail on our part is growing ever longer and frankly, I can only blame my current state for the lack of planning.
I will spare my own blushes and refer only to the most serious of our transgressions which came to light yesterday – we forgot to ask for an extractor fan.
I should perhaps say that Keith has been entirely unwilling to compromise on the bathroom (it being “his” room apparently) and one of the things he hates beyond all comprehension is the towels smelling musty (see previous post for my own personal thoughts on the matter).
Since the widow in the bathroom doesn’t open, we were left with the prospect of fitting an extractor fan. And since the baby has eaten my brain, the poor bathroom fitter was yesterday presented with the prospect of having to channel a cable and create an opening in a newly skimmed wall for said extractor fan.
I felt very bad, especially as the walls did look so very lovely and smooth, which is exactly why I delegated the job of telling the builder to Keith. Genius.
So here is the result of our gallant builder’s efforts some 8 hours later. A perfectly formed hole which I am reliably informed will be used to house a humidity triggered fan supreme. I roll my eyes at the entire episode and turn instead to my new favourite bit of the room.
The tiles I had picked for the bathroom are in fact the ones I picked out some long time ago as kitchen tiles for my old flat and then rejected in favour of a cheap and nasty “paint ‘em black” approach when it became clear I wasn’t going to be there for very long. I now see that what was really happening was that these tiles were in fact being saved by karma for a truly deserving room, a room of sheer magnificence and splendour. A room not dissimilar from our bathroom.
These might look like plain white brick shaped tiles to you, but they are in fact more than that. These are bevelled white brick shaped tiles which look amazing in a Victorian terrace and fit perfectly with the design intention of the bathroom which was traditional, with some key nods to the modern. For some reason they put in mind of Sherlock Holmes, which I think is perhaps a clear sign that l’il baby chile has not only eaten my brain, but is pooping out insanity to replace it.
They also go perfectly with the floor tiles, which I have so far hidden from you as they are worthy of a very grand unveiling when they are finished, not least because of the under floor heating which my beloved husband fought long and hard to have included in our bathroom plans, and which of course you’ll be able to see in the photos, if you have been blessed with x-ray vision.
Anyway the tiles aren’t down yet, that’s my point (Chile, you had better be giving me my brain back!!) and it turns out there is more than enough heat matt for the bathroom floor so we may well end up with under shower heating, if for no other reason than the poor bathroom fitter has to use all the matt. It wasn’t an original part of the design brief, but I’m sure it will have its advantages.