These fake Latuda smiles are not exactly winning endorsements for the enticingly-named Congoleum product. They look more like they’re remembering an old flame, the one that got away. Who can say? But we CAN safely assume this is a tee-totaling home. A couple whiskeys and this tile does not a good pair make. Every day is a hallucination in Polly’s kitchen! Actually, Prohibition was in effect, so the liquor was probably in the cellar. Americans were sober and their pockets were empty.
Two years later, old floors still posed problems. Fortunately, Muriel found a way to fix it.
Before islands existed, folks tossed a table in the kitchen and called it eat-in dining. I like how the couples are having separate conversations three feet apart. You think Edward and Henry even NOTICED that Muriel changed the tile? Fat chance. Drinking is legal now, and it is SO ON. Edward and Henry have hooch on the brain and hooch only. Meanwhile, Muriel is sitting on the table, assessing her new flooring. I think she’s having second thoughts, now that she sees how it clashes with Nora’s orange striped dress. In fact, I think Muriel is playing the quicksand game and avoiding contact entirely. And why is she dressed for a funeral?
At least her little green squares were preferable to this muddy brown zigzag hot mess. I imagine it disguised dirt well but I’m getting a migraine just looking at it. And such a shame with an otherwise upbeat kitchen!
Did your grandparents have tile like this? Did you make up games to walk on it?