A Fumey Interlude

It has been brought to my attention that this:


May (or may not) be the exact same tile as used to be in the nasty kitchen. It describes out the same way, sure enough – yellow and red with black and mottled grey – but for some reason I like this patch of tile. In fact, we have decided that when all is said and done here, this little patch of floor will be the only thing that we let stand unrenovated. And I hated the moldy old crap that got thrown away.

But wait. I just remembered: there is still some kitchen-tile left! Under what remains of the (probably not) original cabinetry. You can’t see it, of course, what with the cabinets being on top and everything, but some sticky-outy corners do poke through – I know, because it makes it very difficult to clean out under there.

Let’s go have a look, shall we, and see what moldy red and yellow pieces we can find?

Oh, and green. Until I saw this nasty thing, I plum forgot about the green (P.S. Congratulations, new camera, for getting me this shot!):

Hey, I told you it was hard to clean out under there. In my defense -- which ain't worth much, I grant you -- that white stuff is plaster dust from some sanding Johnny did a week ago. Apparently I forgot to get on my hands and knees with the new Dirty Devil's brush-extension. And the black under it is tar-paper. I may not be a Domestic Goddess, but I am not that bad a housekeeper as to let black mold and white fungus grow unchecked on my kitchen floor.

Not anymore, at least.

Anyway, now I'm even more confused. Green, no green? Same, not same? I don't know.

But wait again. Johnny just walked in the door from a day of working on a rehabilitation project not our own. Let’s go ask him!

“Johnny?”

“Whu.”

“How was your day?”

“Stoned.”

“Slow?”

“Stoonnneh… duh.”

“What? Oh, from the Zinsser?”

“Yeh. From zinzur. Yup. Lend me twenty dollars so I can have a… have a… What was I saying?”

“Sure, honey, I’ll give you ten bucks for a pint [you see what I did there? Is tricky, yes?], but can you do me a favor and riddle me one thing first?”

“Rid-duh? What doo you meen? Gee, I wish I had a su-moak.”

“I mean, can you answer me one question? Are you capable right now? Or should I just wait and ask you later?”

“Nope. I ken. Wha dizit?”

“You know this floor here, in the little hall outside the bathroom? Come and look…”

“O-buh-kay-bee.”

“Is this tile—”

“Smell fart!”

“No! No, honey, that’s the cat box. Sister was just in there. I’ll change it in a minute, but can you focus for me now?”

“O-kay. Whud?”

“Is this tile the same as used to be in the kitchen?”

“Yes. Yup. Same thing.”

“There was green in the kitchen, though.”

“Yup. And yellow.”

“Right, Honey. There’s yellow here.”

“And black.”

“That’s right, dear. There was yellow and black in the kitchen, and there’s yellow and black in this little hallway here. And also red, both places. But there was green in the kitchen, and there’s no green here. So is this the same as that? Or different?”

“Too small.”

“What’s too small, Honey?”

“Hall way. Too small.”

“For green?”

“Yes. Yup. Too small for green.”

“Okay. Thanks, hon. I’m sorry I bothered you. Here’s twenty dollars. Go buy yourself two pints of Guinness and a pack of—”

“Guinness will pull the poison!"

"Right, honey."

"Guinness… it cleans the… and it pulls…”

“Cleans the blood and pulls the poison out. Yes, dear, I know. A burger in every pint, there is. Now go have two and we’ll discuss this again in the morning.”

If we can get a decent picture of the tiles that are under those cabinets when they come out, we will. In the meantime, this whole thing will have to remain a mystery.

To those of us who remember the conversation, anyway.


P.S. Micky: I sent him your kisses from the Chi-town girls. He said "They can't see me now. Can they?"

No, Dear. They cannot see you. Now have your pint.


P.P.S. Can anybody spot the cat in either of those pictures? I'll write a POEM for whoever sees it first...