Why the Stonesetter's Wife has no tile

This is an example of the work my husband does.

I fuss and moan and groan because I don't have a completely tiled house. We only bought the tile 2 years ago. He's been laying a little every week or so. He says he's working on somebody's backyard and a fireplace for the past few months. So I'm thinking a little brick with a pattern here, a wooden hearth. Ta da!


Now where's my fucking tile.

Then I come home tonight and he's doing laundry and these pictures are casually lying on the coffee table. What's this? I ask. That's the fireplace I've been working on, he casually tells me. And that's not all. There's a u-shaped bbq, and an olympic sized swimming pool edged in brick. Who has an olympic sized swimming pool? And beautiful steps that lead to the house entrance which is ever so grand. With stone pillars on either side.

I can't believe how talented and yet so humble he is about his work. If I could do half of what he can do with just his hands you wouldn't hear the end of it. And the scanner I have at home sucks so this doesn't even do it justice. So now I'm moaning about that.

He spends his days working so hard and creating such beauty only to come home to listen to me bitch about how he doesn't work enough.

Okay so the tile didn't get laid tonight, but...........