A dirty little five-letter-word, goddammit.
We’re still cleaning up the aftermath of the new roof. All the thwacking and thumping as the crew tore off our four old roofs and chucked giant sheets of plywood around on the rafters of our house with gut-wrenching levity resulted in – surprise! – some cracks at the joins of the walls and ceilings. In a column through the center of the house, in particular. On the lower floor, the area of crackage just so happens to be right around the rim of our master bath shower.
Sigh. The one nice bathroom element we have in our entire house (and by “nice,” I mean “working”).
Anyway, whatever. We can fix that with matched silicone caulk (you can fix most things with some kind of caulk, FYI).
Except for the love of god – the grout in our shower is some alien shade of not-quite-white-not-quite-gray-not-quite-ALMOND-not-quite-ANYTHING.
I cannot ask Trent to caulk this shower again (at least, not for a while; November is, after all, his birthday month). So, we’re gonna try to live with “Snow White” for a bit, and see what kind of affront it really is on our delicate aesthetic sensibilities.
Though, who am I kidding – I’m going to attempt to live with Snow White. For at least a couple weeks. Before running back to my old friend, the Grout Getter. Or possibly tearing apart the basement in Type A desperation looking for an old tub of grout that might hold the promise of perfection in a color code…
…and for what it’s worth, the only reason I haven’t done that yet is because Trent pointed out that there are probably SIX old tubs of grout down there, just like there are six old tubes of silicone caulk, which is how we ended up here in the first place.
Hooray for old houses!