(Photos 1,2,3: after, kitchen. 4,5: before, kitchen. 6: bath, after. 7: bath, before. 8: the cement subfloor, signed by the cats.)
My house is home—beautiful, unique, and about 140 years old, which means it’s both well built and a lot of work. When we bought it the kitchen floor was covered in rotting, smelly linoleum. Limited by budget (but not ambition!) we laid tile, despite a complete lack of any construction/renovation background. Year by year the tiles cracked, making a simple snack run a hazardous obstacle course (like the floor is lava, but in this case the floor is sharp edges).
So finally, after ten years, we hired a professional and learned it was not a simple case of laying tile—the floor was uneven and until that was addressed anything we put down would crack. He had to build an entire subfloor in concrete… which is not easy or cheap. But he did an amazing job.
I love the classic yet unexpected pattern of the new kitchen floor, the smooth, soothing blue of the bathroom. I’m really happy with the result, but a little sad I can’t point to the floor and claim success: I did that! But our comfort and uncut toes must come before my ego. It’s funny: I sometimes still follow the pattern around broken tiles when I walk through the kitchen.
by sansafiercer