The Spray-On Bandage

Tiles can be very sharp.

Certain tiles are called vitreous, as in glass-like. When cut, their edges can be as sharp as glass. I found this out the other day while trying to tile a box-like surface in my practice tiling bay. The box was constructed deliberately so as to not have a single straight angle. It is a hateful device.

The Box From Hell, Completed

Somehow in my tiling frenzy I managed to cut the top of my left hand, above the last knuckle. Stuart told me to wash the wound. He then produced a little blue aerosol can. He sprayed the affected area and ordered me to return to my station.

This “spray-on plaster” is a wonderful thing. The wound is protected from the elements and is allowed to heal with no sticky bandage. Marvelous.

Tiling Bay of Fellow Student Campbell Showing "Bessie" the Kneeling Pad At His Feet

The next day I set off to work with my RAF buddy Sgt. John Crawford, under threatening skies. It was actually quite warm, but the wind was up. We’d just passed Priestfield Road when a gust of wind ripped the Dickies baseball cap off my head and flung it into someone’s back yard. I was set to climb over a high stone wall to retrieve it when John said, “That’s private property mate. It’s trespassing. You’d best go around and knock on the door of the bloke who owns the place.”

I followed his advice and rang the bell of the owner’s home. After a lengthy pause a door opened, sending a waft of stale cigarette smoke my way. A bleary-eyed woman of about 50 asked me what I wanted.

“Sorry, but my hat blew into your yard. Can I go and get it?”

“The yard door’s locked,” she mumbled. “ I’ll have to go around.”

I went around to the driveway, and a moment later my hat came sailing over a high wooden fence.

“Cheers,” I said, and went on my way.

The rest of the morning was spent trying to complete tiling that bee-otch of a box. Lunch was a cup of lentil soup, followed by a piece of twisted pastry called a “Yum-Yum”. A “Yum-Yum” it was not, let me assure you.

Awoke Thursday morning to a driving snow squall. Trudged off to the Tiling school, with leaden feet. Once there, we were told that two of our five-some would not be in that day. They were both from the Glasgow area and the evening’s snowfall had made roads too congested to travel on.

This points to a big shortcoming in the Scottish road network. Between Scotland’s two biggest cities, Glasgow and Edinburgh there is a single “dual carriageway”, a two-lane highway in either direction, with a few whirling roundabouts at either end. In North America, where car is king, this would be a four lane expressway plus a reserved bus lane. As a result, commuting around here is a nightmare.

Learned how to tile around a toilet today. Now there’s something for my CV.

Tiling Around Odd Shapes: It's Simple Trigonometry My Dear Chap

As I was bent over the potty, Stuart stood over me and commented on the general impression Scots have of us Canadians.  We are seen as polite, happy, and perhaps (although he did not say it) just a wee bit boring. I replied testily that since we live in a land of plenty, we have nothing to be particularly grumpy about.  Hmmm. It seems Canadians can get grumpy, especially when they are overseas trying to tile around a goddamned toilet. 

He also lamented that whenever Scots are depicted in films or television they tend to be loud, physically abusive alcoholics. Not sure about that, but I wasn’t going to argue the point in case he decided to have a go at me with his tile nippers.

Dinner was Chinese take-out. Won-ton soup and king prawn chop suey with rice. (Shrimp in Scotland are called prawns.) It seems that every shrimp served here is a “king” prawn no matter how small and , well, shrimpy it is.

Reading the Guardian tonight with its stories on the Egypt crisis, Australian cyclones, and Silvio Berlusconi’s “bunga bunga” parties. Absolutely no news about Canada.

Such a nice, boring country.

Spent Saaturday wandering around the city, collecting tiling catalogues from posh designer stores. (I think tiling is becoming an obession. I may need an intervention.)

Here is a few non-tiling shots of Edinburgh, as a reward for reading this far:

Scottish Monument: A Victorian Pile of Sooty Stone Seemingly At the Point of Collapse

Jenners Department Store

Bridge Over the Water of Leith - Note the Wee Man Upstream

Near Dean Bank: One of Many Delightful and Unexpected Corners of Edinburgh