Frank complains that he's paralyzed with boredom. Get in line, pal. Aren't we way overdue for a commercial? They all manage to agree on the pale green.
Hildi spreads mortar on the floor, while Dennis and Jennifer wait to apply tile. I don't think I understand how the roughly cut edge of the carpet is going to look any good meeting this new tile.
Frank shows his team how to apply the grout to the tile they've stuck on the fireplace. He takes the bucket of grout and just pours it on the top, acknowledging, "There's people that do this for a living that are right now killing themselves. They're cringing, totally."
Hildi and her team have most of the tiles in. They seem to have elected to put them in with what looks like the price tags on them. I'm sure they plan to remove them, but it seems like it would have been easier to do before the tiles were set in mortar. She asks if they think they can finish this for homework. They do. They also have to finish painting the furniture and touching up the walls, paint the new wall, and grout the slate tile.
Frank gives his team some advice about grouting technique and about cleaning the grout off later.
Hildi takes off to get some pictures printed. She's sitting in a little plastic kiddie patio chair, and when she stands up, it sticks to her ass. She smiles, removes it, and zips out.
Frank's team's homework is to grout the fireplace.
Day Two. Hildi arrives and says the floor looks incredible. A shot of the slate tile job makes me beg to differ. The tiles themselves don't look too bad, but the grout it messy and sloppy and uneven. It does not look good. They all think otherwise, though.
Frank finds Laura and Tim outside, washing tools and complaining about how hard they worked. They say they stayed up until 3:00 AM. Frank shows them a floor lamp with a large rectangular shade. Frink dubs it the "SpongeBob SquareLamp." Frank says he bought it at a store they recommended to him. The shade looks like it's made of wicker or something. Tim loves it.
Hildi says they have to finish painting the wall, make a shoji screen, and finish the sewing.
Frank says they still have to hang the draperies, add little finishing touches, lay down rugs, and put in the sofas and pillows. He warns them not to whine.
After this interminable segment, I complain to Frink about the interminable season, and declare it the wrongest wrong that ever wronged. Frink, who's usually very sympathetic, even to my hyperbole: "Yeah, it's right up there with ethnic cleansing." "Yes, yes," I huff. "Point taken."