Too Much Mustard

When I was a kid my parents bought an Edison cylinder phonograph player. One of my favorites was the Europe Society Ocrchestra’s “Too Much Mustard,” a classic early jazz standard

Too Much Mustard is what I always thought of when we walked into our first floor bathroom:


I finished trimming the bathroom Wednesday night. I was working after the girls went to bed so I turned off the air compressor knowing I had few nails to shoot and could do it without worrying about the compressor kicking in. The other thing I did was drag out my old hand mitre box to cut boards.


Using the hand mitre really brought back memories. This is the third bathroom I’m covering over the fake tile plaster with beadboard. The other bathrooms were at our old house. I cut all the trim for those bathrooms with my hand box. I didn’t have to cut much with it on Wednesday. You have to hand cut the copes anyway, I really only used it to cut to length.







I will be finished painting everything by Sunday and the plumber will come Monday to set the sink and stool.