Tile by any other name is still a mess.

I'm not sure what it is that comes over me. Why I do the things that I do. I am sure of one thing, it is this uncertainty that makes the majority of people in my life wrinkle up their noses upon visiting Miss Flora on any given day. I honestly feel a little responsible for their stress. A visit to a friends home shouldn't give rise to pressure and confusion but here in my crazy world it does. You see, visitors never know what to expect, how to react to what they are about to witness or even if it is safe to enter. This is because there is always something going on, and usually that something is ten things, at different stages of completion, varied levels of skill, and all messy. This fine day finds the once old crusty backsplash mid-transformation. You see, upon a recent visit to the Habitat for Humanity thrift store I found boxes of brightly colored tile, cheap. Never one to pass up on a bargain, they made their way into my car, box after box. My 'find' ended up being enough tile to cover the two streets that separate my sister's home and mine. Oops! So now was the time to find new uses for all of this tile, wouldn't want to be wasteful. I began with the backsplash, I will move onto the piece of plywood that my hubby cut to fit the iron table base I plucked from the garbage, making, I hope, a great backyard dining space. Then, only the tile gods know what's next. If they don't start behaving, the kids may wake up and find themselves sporting a brand new look, one of red, orange, and yellow.