A Little Slice of Portland with Emser Tile Woodwork
You know, when you live in a town like Portland, you get used to people asking you if you’ve ever tried “that trendy tile place” or “the best woodwork shop”. And honestly? You start to feel like a local expert on all things home decor—at least until you have to do it yourself. Grab your coffee; this might take a minute.
So there I was, sitting at my kitchen table, sipping on what I swear was the last dregs of yesterday’s brew, and staring at the pile of unfinished projects looming in the corner of the garage. I had this grand vision—woodwork that was gonna make my place feel downright cozy, y’know? I wanted to re-do my entryway with some flooring tile from Emser Tile that I saw down at the showroom. It was these gorgeous, warm wood-look tiles that really caught my eye. I could hardly stop myself from dreaming about how lovely it’d look when guests came over.
The Great Plan—Or Lack Thereof
But folks, dreams have a funny way of turning into “what the heck was I thinking?” moments when it comes to execution. I mean, I’ve built a few bookshelves and even a small coffee table, but this? This was a whole new beast. I watched all these YouTube videos, you know, the ones that make it look as easy as pie. So naturally, I thought, “How hard could it be?” Spoiler alert: Much harder than you think.
I piled my gear into the car, making my way to the Emser showroom. You could smell that fresh new tile scent—probably chlorine or something, but it felt full of promise. I ended up choosing these warm brown-toned tiles, convinced they’d be a perfect fit for my “rustic chic” vision. After all, nothing says “welcome” like a nice wood look.
I had my hands on some tile spacers, a trowel, and don’t even get me started on the amount of adhesive I bought. I thought I was prepared! It was like I was gearing up for a battle, not a home improvement project. Little did I know, that the sticky mess would be my biggest enemy.
The Gritty Reality
So, I set aside a Sunday. The birds were singing (well, I like to think they were) and I was pumped up as the morning sunshine streamed through my kitchen window. Cue the dramatic music; it was time. I laid out the tiles, following the pattern I had in my head—but of course, I messed that first row up so badly. I mean, how does one get that far and totally mismeasure a straight line? I chuckled a bit while shaking my head because, at that moment, a light bulb flickered on in my brain. Should’ve had a measuring tape handy instead of winging it!
I almost gave up right there. Seriously, as I sat on the floor staring at what could only be described as a chaotic mosaic of tiles, frustration sunk in. My partner came in and just watched me, maybe weighing if it was worth saying something. But bless them, they just offered a beer instead and let me wallow in my messy little world.
The Moment of Truth
Then came the moment of truth: laying the adhesive. The sound of that trowel making contact with the floor was a little satisfying, not gonna lie. But when I dropped one of those heavy tiles, you could hear the unmistakable thunk echoing through the garage. I thought I was going to cry! I had just glued it, and now it was just a big, sticky disaster. But instead of packing it in and conceding defeat, I stepped back and took a breather. Hey, mistakes happen, right?
Once I finally found my groove—after a lot of laughter and minor cursing—I started placing the tiles. One by one, they fell into place. The smell of adhesive hung in the air like an odd cocktail of hope and desperation, but as those pieces clicked together, I felt a sense of pride, more than I’d felt in ages.
Still, I’d be lying if I said it was flawless. There were crooked edges, a few tiles that didn’t want to stick, and even some major tilting in spots where I should have used a level. But you know, it felt great. Even amid the mistakes, it started coming together, transforming that entryway into something warm and inviting.
The Finish Line
When it was done, I stood back, hands on my hips, looking at the chaos I’d just created. It might not win any awards, but it was mine. It had a character that screamed “local artisan meets regular Joe.” I laughed when it actually worked, feeling like I conquered my own little Everest.
So here’s the takeaway, my friend: If you’re thinking about diving into a project like this, just go for it. You might not be perfect, and it’ll probably get messy, but you’ll make memories. And those wonky tiles? They’re a reminder that not everything has to be flawless. Just embrace the chaos and enjoy the ride. You never know, it might just become a treasured part of your home.
