Our bathroom has no tile in the tub enclosure, just plastic sheeting. Dusty plastic sheeting on the floor. A patch of concrete ‘leveler’ where we had to replace the subfloor. We have no cabinets, just a hole in the wall. No tp holder. More holes.
Our tile is here. Except 8 pieces because the tile shop screwed up the order of the trim tile for the little mural which is the center of the whole tile job—they provided only 8 and it takes 16. Our workman is coming Tuesday. Thursday, yesterday, the tile we ordered to make up the deficit was finally in! We’d agreed to pay 17.00 postage to get these pieces here in time. Takes, ordinarily, 2 weeks to order tile. I pick the new 8 tiles up—and being a suspicious soul—I opened the packet while I was there.
Wrong tile. Jane and I had a flaming fit. They promised to try to get it straightened out…dealing with someone other than the clerk who screwed the order. We spent yesterday near closing time trying to find that tile elsewhere. Found a place that can order it—in two weeks. Found another color at Home Depot. (Won’t work.) Found another right color, wrong pattern at Lowe’s. We got those, but don’t like them. We also picked up some spray paint with which we might be able to brighten the highlights on them a bit….
But we really want the ones that really work for the color scheme. This morning the store called, said they’d ordered them, they’d make it.
We’re still determined not to pay ANY postage on that: it’s their employee that caused this mess. Secretly we’ll pay the 17 if we have to. But what they WANT to charge us 45 dollars to express tiles weighing less than half a pound together. These are pencil-thin pieces of decorative border. It’s not like we’re shipping bricks.
I swear to you, I am never doing anything involving tile again. Ever! I don’t mind carpentry, but masonry involves dust, lotsa dust.
On a positive note, we got the table saw put together and correctly adjusted (to be sure the blade is true and the starting angle is zero, so when you angle the blade, etc, you’re at the angle you think you are)—and we managed to cut that piece for the subfloor (a jigsaw handled the wavy curvature of the tub edge side)–in short order. Needed it a hair skinnier—piece of cake. Straight and true. Jane was dubious when I held my breath wanting a table saw, back in the Black Friday sales, and she was still dubious until we began to use it. A table saw is the principle piece of equipment my dad used, I used it, we worked together on projects, and I got a real respect for the versatility and ease of use of this item. So it is a big success. Jane now is a believer as well, and we can do a lot of things we need to do without the hassle of handhelds or worse, hacksaws and makeshifts. With a good table saw and a rolling board support, you can even cut curves—not that the saw ever does anything but a straight line, but you put a lot of straight lines on an arc (ie, multiple cuts, shifting the angle of the board at each pass) and you’ve very quickly got a nice accurate curve. A belt sander on the edge to take off the little peaks remaining, and you’ve got it. No end to the stuff you can do with this lovely thing. The vaunted safety equipment nearly killed us—the pawl that’s supposed to prevent bucking grabbed a board and wouldn’t let it move; the other shield got in our way when we were trying to see what we were doing, and I confess that gear is now off the machine—but really, if you just never ram a board through, but advance it with a butterfly touch and have a helper receiving the cut board. If you’ve got knotholes, you figure out bucking is a possibility, and be ready. I helped my dad use scrap lumber (which can have problems) and yep, a few boards were problems, but nothing we couldn’t handle. Love this machine.
I love it when you talk about your dad. In my opinion, the single-most important relationship for a girl is a strong, respectful relationship with her father. I can sense the love in your words when you speak of him.
I must add what I left out… a strong, respectful -adult- relationship with her dad. It is important to know that your dad shares that same respect for his daughter.
My dad was a wonderful guy—grew up with no mother to speak of, —cared for until he was three by my great-grandmother, a formidable woman of the Boone clan, whose father was a spy and a lawyer during the Civil War. When she died (my grandfather, a former cowboy turned salesman) was on the road most of the time and couldn’t care for him—so he was shunted off to an uncle and aunt in another town, and finally brought back to a second marriage (my step-gran was a saint) with a wonderful woman—but my dad had grown to a certain age on the street(s) of a very small town with no family to defend him. He learned to fight (he taught me)—and he learned carpentry and mechanics (he taught me) and all these wonderful skills. He loved sports—broke his elbow in basketball, played football—played tennis into his 70’s. He left me two favorite sayings (” ‘Can’t’ never did anything.” c/f Yoda. And “Throw some mud on it and keep going.”
He took me, the sole kid on the office fishing trips with the ‘guys’, —I heard later that one of the guys wouldn’t take his sons because, “They’d be sure to drown—” I took care of myself. And I loved those trips. He’d wake me at 3 in the morning, I’d sleep most of the way to the lake in the back seat, and the one time I remember is when I opened the jar of stink bait in pure curiosity. But the guys from the office took me seriously, and my dad showed me how to rig a hook, how to work a plug, or a spoon—but mostly I didn’t care to catch anything. I loved sitting by the water and watching the sun on the ripples, and watching the cork bob. I tossed back almost all the (iittle) fish I caught, mostly sun-perch.
He was a very sentimental guy. Loved us kids. Family meant everything to him because he’d had a kind of a sketchy one; and he loved my mum with a romance that never dimmed. She and he were introduced by a nephew of Cole Younger, the outlaw…and they ran off to get married, and didn’t tell anyone for several months. They were a very special pair.
I love it when you talk about your parents also, especially your dad.
I went to Lowe’s the other day.
Seeds and spring planting stuff’s not yet in. I’ll check around mid-February. Still a novice gardener. I’ll live. Ideally, I’ll have tomatoes this year. (The plants were beautiful last year, but no fruit. Waah.)
While there, I went through the tile and flooring sections, daydreaming about my master bathroom remodel, which awaits much cashy-money. There is white-on-white tile, stsho would find most elegantly subtle. There is black tile and dark charcoal. OK, if you like your bathroom to look more like a bat’room, I suppose. (Who writes this guy’s material?) Other very drab colors in greys, beiges, browns. If you are really adventuresome, you can get something approaching a brick red or terra cotta or thereabouts, but not really those. (I might like terra cotta.) There are very big slab tiles. There are very tiny, fiddling tiles, designed so you will spend every minute in the bathroom scrubbing the grout clean, doubtless. Uh, no, please. There are ‘spensive and very pretty tiles. There was only one rather whimsical toll painting English oak leaf-like pattern in a bright yellow-green and orange sherbet color scheme. Fine for an accent, but maybe too much en masse, and good luck matching the color scheme in a year or two when new colors come in. Also good luck on resale of the home. Far less tile on display, too.
No blues or teals or turquoises. No reds or burgundies or golds. Or greens. Any color you like, so long as it’s grey or beige or brown, white or black if you must. I wish I was exaggerating.
It decided me, though. I can look at a local Home Depot. I can find whatever specialty contracting and tile shops there are, because there have to be some here. — But more and more, I’m forced to look online for things, not only because of my eyesight and picking through shelf displays, but because either the products aren’t there or can’t be ordered more quickly than I could online from the same sources, or because the sales staff don’t know or actually tell me to look online.
Anathema! When my mom and dad owned an art and framing store, my mom kept a wide selection and adequate stock. She knew the product lines, partly because she used them herself as a pro artist. If a customer or student came in looking for something, she’d order it. That included custom framing. (Understand, this is before Michael’s and Hobby Lobby came in and undercut the small and large indie shops with economies of scale.) If you came in the shop, you’d have met a friendly, smart, overweight and greying middle-aged lady in a wild top and hiking boots (bad ankles plus protection against glass and frames) who’d talk with you to find what you wanted, help you select it if needed, and you’d leave with a good bargain. Oh, and if the cat or dog were there, the dog would greet you and the cat would ignore you from the sales counter top. (No ma’am, he’s a real live cat, not stuffed…this happened….) (You also might’ve seen a kid with his nose in a science fiction book carrying around a sketchbook and too many pens and pencils. 😉 )
Yes, I grew up the child of a small businesswoman. (The business was smallish, the woman, not. 😉 That does parse dubiously!)
So yes, I notice customer service and product availability and other such things, probably without knowing I notice. Not a sales genius, just trained by osmosis. …And I’m fairly sure there’s linseed oil and turpentine in my blood. Those smells still make me nostalgic.
Anyway, best of luck on the bathroom remodel, especially the tile you both want.
You probably want a short-season (early) tomato, to make sure you get some fruit. They aren’t the big sellers, so they’re a bit harder to find. ‘Early Girl’ is usually good.
If you want something a bit different, there are some nice short-season hybrids from Oregon: ‘Oregon Spring’ and ‘Santiam’ are ones I’ve met. You pretty much have to start them yourself, though. (Two or three-ounce fruit: nice size for eating.)
I, too, have wonderful memories of working with my Dad and a table saw. When I headed off to college, he got himself a Shopsmith, and never needed help again. (http://www.shopsmith.com/markvsite/index.htm)
I’m a little sketchy around table saws, although I can use them with due caution. During my undergrad days, there was an Incident involving a table saw, too little sleep, and a fingertip…
It was apparently too much to hope that your quest for a functional yet lovely bathroom would proceed without further ado. I don’t understand why HD would make you pay for their employee’s bungle, and don’t blame you and Jane for having “not lost, but abandoned your temper” on discovering the error. One sincerely hopes that HD gets the order right this next time; I wouldn’t blame you for declaring Intent after a third wrong batch.
Next home improvement project here is to finish installing the remaining 2 windows. This involves building a small frame around the window a/c units, to give the new windows something on which to rest, and putting in the windows themselves. I watched very carefully when the pros installed the 2 big picture windows. The wood for the frames is painted to match the existing trim, and I hope to get the frames assembled and the windows installed by next week.
I LOVE the koi mural tile! It is wonderful — and I can’t wait to see it paired with the koi vessel sink, when all is completed. The mess and aggravation will be worth it!
*gritting teeth* If it turns out that HD is irredeemably stoopid and the correct tile can’t be gotten in a timely fashion, could you locate a suitable alternate that WAS available, perhaps in a contrasting but complementary color? I know you have probably already discussed this, but if the alternative is having the project stall yet again, I might bite the bullet and go for Door #2. I wish I could see the whole thing when you are done; it sounds delightful.
I envy the fact that you and Jane are pretty much on the same wavelength when it comes to home improvement and what needs to be done at what time. Often I have to pussyfoot around DH’s irregular schedule: “Hi, welcome home!” with some crucial piece of the house disassembled and in parts on the floor while I fix it.
Actually it wasn’t HD that screwed us, it was a locally owned shop that messed this up. We have an alternate that is very close, from Lowes, but we really, really want the correct tile, which has a sparkle about it that the other pattern doesn’t.
Did the local shop have it physically in stock when you ordered it? Rather than going through an intermediary, I might hop in the car, drive over and make jolly sure what I wanted was what I got. A 45 minute drive is a hassle, but getting the right tile is priceless 😉
A jewelry store in the mall here has a tile front on their store I wish I could find an excuse to use in our house. The store is called Na Hoku, the Stars, and the tile looks like:
https://www.directmarbleandgranite.co.uk/product/dark_blue_starlight_quartz_tiles.html
Oh, no, this is Spokane. Pop. about 350,000. If we were in Seattle or its environs, we could have had at least the main-selection tile within a day, because there’s a distributor there for our brand. But this lot, the trim, comes from Dallas or thereabouts, and has to be shipped here, 7-14 days ground freight ordinarily, whenever they get around to putting a ‘little’ order into a box, and you hope they got the right pattern—somebody didn’t, whether at the Spokane store, or at Daltile in Dallas. Anything in a decor sort of category that you want that isn’t in a big-box store, you have to order, and wait. And hope the dye lot matches and hope it looks like the sample. The big-box stores, especially with tile, are super-cut-rate, and the tile stores only stock samples of the more exotic, fancier (and somewhat pricier) stuff, while the big-box stores are real good if you want beige. Beige is good, and we considered it, but it just didn’t work like the one we picked. Sigh.
It’s enough to send you screaming into the street.
Ooooo Pwetty!!!
This has to be the first time in recorded (or prehistory) that what we wanted (not what we settled on) was actually CHEAP (as tile goes.) Mainly, I think, because it only comes in the 13×13 squares and bulnose. But that didn’t bother us. It’s an odd color with yellow and red and soft moss-colored green…and some cream. But it works.
The tile in question here is the 1/2 trim that will bridge between the mural and the big tiles. It’s an oil-rubbed bronze rope and just perfect. Keeping fingers crossed, the other eight pieces show up tomorrow.
Then…I get to convince our handy-man that my design for the shelf/sophet really will work. 😀 I might end up building that myself.
Just out of curiosity, is this bathroom in the SE sector of the house?
Right in the middle and it faces north—ironically our best view of the koi pond from indoors. 😉
My Dad had a table saw when I was growing up but it was a cheezy tabletop model that saw very little use, so the only one I ever got to use was in Shop class. Yes, this was in the age when us girls had to take shop, but it was a new concept! The guys did more damage to themselves in sewing than we females did in either wood-shop or metal-shop. Amazing how much blood a sewing machine can draw! Later Hubby and I remodeled this place, and I learned a great deal more about handling myself around a table saw. Admittedly, mine is an ancient crapsman (er, Craftsman) contractor’s saw that weighs more than most cabinet saws now, but I’ve got it tuned up with a good blade on it so it sings. None of the ‘wonderful’ safety doodads that come standard now, but I do use jigs, push sticks and guides wherever possible as well as a great deal of caution. GREAT tool. The second most used tool in my shop is a big brick of a router that I have mounted upside down on one side of the table saw in a router table. The whole shebang (router table and table saw) form one unit in my shop.
On the ‘spray paint’ for the tile? Ummm, one of the hats I wear says potter, another painter, a third janitor… my suggestion is hold out on using the spray paint as long as possible, as there just isn’t much that will stand up to cleaning the same way as the right tile.
My knowledge of carpentry and building is from husband #1 (house builder) and husband #2 (fine cabinetry, although he did build the house) All the other stuff I’ve learned through sewing, knitting, and clay…..it still amazes me how much informations transfers from discipline to discipline.
The potter in me agrees with weeble re:painting tile. Even some of the paints that set up in a conventional oven are not recommended. It’s not only the cleaning agents generally used in bathrooms, but the minerals in water that tend to wear away very low fire over glazes.
Your experiences are why I have such problems dealing with big box home stores. Whenever possible I try to work with local merchants…..I may pay a small amount more, but I have peace of mind and better service when things go wrong. 😉
Our problems were actually with a local. Very disappointing. Lowes does pretty well by us but then I always seem to make it up as I go along anyway.
I was holding out for metallic rub-ons…which hold up better than paint and can be easily renewed. But the real problem was the design. It was sort of “rope” but very smooth. Very pretty, but nothing to really catch the light. The one we want won’t need anything done to it.
Great info on the saw. I’m in desperate need of a power tool and wasn’t sure about table saws. I used one in theatre shop but it was a monstrous thing. Loud and scary. However, I seriously doubt my ability to use a circular saw. I will think on this some more.
A Koi Mural in tile? It sounds really beautiful.
As soon as I get some time to sit and prep them, I’ll post some pix…by that time, I should be able to get it in situ! It’s not being sold any longer or we could post a link. It’s very cool. A painting reproduced in tile. Not your typical Japanese “looking down on them” koi painting but a perspective view and just a bit impressionistic…
They’re loud, they’re justifably scary, because they do cut…but you can slide a half inch plywood board through soft as butter and get a good straight cut. The main thing is to clear the area of obstacles and trip hazards, know where your feet are, stand squarely balanced so you can feed the board through without a hitch or wobble in your push, wear goggles (dust as much as anything, but also in case a splinter flies) and ideally have a partner to help.
For instance, when that thrice-cursed safety-holder jammed and the board froze halfway through the saw, there’s the blade going like mad and the blade halfway through a 3 foot cut on a thick plywood board. Jane’s got both hands occupied on that board—and the thing to do is to cut the power to the blade and straighten out the damned pawl AFTER the blade has stopped. That’s the rule: never force a board or crowd the blade: stop the machine. Now that switch CAN be hit by the pusher’s knee, if you’re used to this saw. But this is a new saw and such actions aren’t routine. I said: “Hold it!” and reached around the side of the saw and cut the power off. We then removed the damned pawl from the operation and had no trouble. That’s the sort of thing you have to think about. There’s no harm going to come if you stop pushing the board and just let the blade spin with no contact—but—ultimately you have to cut the power to get out of the situation.
Another hazard is when the blade hits a hard spot, like a knothole without a hole—which can be buried in a thick bit of wood: it can make the wood bounce upward and contact the spinning blade at a wrong angle, and (I’ve had this happen once) a board can fracture and go flying. If you’re caught by one of these really wild events, a buck that goes out of control, a board splintering—your last defense is to back up. Fast. And if you didn’t clear your work area and your back is against a counter or your foot hits the tool chest, now you AND the saw are out of control—that’s how accidents happen, that and reaching across a running saw. You have to have it clear in your head in advance what you will do if you lose control of the board—or if the progress of the board is blocked (as in that locked pawl (toothed little board holder). If you’ve planned, and have room to back up, you won’t get hurt.
That’s also where a partner comes in handy, on the opposite side of the saw: the partner watches the path of the board on the sides as well as where the blade is, makes sure the board isn’t going to hit, say, the edge of the shop bench on its way; helps steady the board to be sure the pusher can work slowly and safely, and can yell stop when there’s going to be a problem. “Stop” is the best thing whenever you have a problem. You can assess things, and re-start the blade where it sits.
We got ours for 50.00 on sale at Lowes: it’s a Skilsaw table saw, very lightweight, but came with legs (and inadequate instructions.) Getting it calibrated requires a carpenter’s square or T-square. And a big draftsman’s T-square is a real valuable aid in being sure you’ve got a true edge and a square board. It’s not at all a real carpenter’s quality saw, but it’s good enough for our purposes. With this—a lot of how good it is is reliant on your careful measurements and instruction-following in setting it up.
What you can do, eg: Dad and I bought 2″x4″ oak, which is very hard wood, and used the saw to split it into thin strips of exactly the same thickness: we sanded it, rounded the corners, stained and varnished, and had a lovely oak trim on my kitchen counters…far cheaper than you can buy the stuff.
A table saw looks and sounds scary—and can do terrible damage. But the potential for a mistake with a handheld circular saw is actually just as serious, and they’re less steady in operation. Jigsaws are what make me nervous—wear eye protection when using those things, definitely: breaking blades can fly.
Re: the tile border. If it doesn’t arrive on time there might be another option, but I’m not a tiler (I only made a mosaic once, with some assistance for the tile-cutting) so I don’t know if it will work: you’ld probably better discuss this with your tiler before he comes to do the job.
If I understood correctly, you need 16 narrow border-tiles for the mural, but have only 8 in hand. Are these border-tiles all the same size or are they irregular? If they’re identical, and the other 8 don’t arrive in time, the tiler may be able to leave exactly measured space for them, using the eight tiles you do have for the measuring.
If he cuts and places the corner-pieces where they may need to be cut, that’s what I’d think would be the difficult bit. Then when the rest of the tiles arrive, you’ld have to glue them in to the narrow slots left open for them (tilers have little plastic distance-keeping crosses to make sure the spaces are equal: he’d have to leave you some of those, as well as some glue). Then when that has dried you’ld have to finish the grouting for the mural-border yourselves: the tiler would have to leave you some grout as well.
This means that the bit of the wall with the mural will be finished a bit later, but you would have the tile you very much want.
As Jane does such excellent, meticulous work and has an artist’s eye for how it should look, she probably could place the missing bordertiles without interrupting the symmetry or flow of the groutlines etc.; what I’d be most worried about is getting them exactly level in depth.
I have no idea if a real tiler would think this could work, or if using the less-optimal tiles, professionally placed, would in the end irritate you less than if you use the perfect tiles but a few end up slightly less than level.
You’re both perfectionists, especially Jane, with her artist’s sense of colour and line. If you know something is off, you’ll keep noticing it (especially so close to the focal-point the mural will be), and it is likely to become irritating.
That could be a good reason not to use a border that doesn’t quite fit; but on the other hand, imperfectly placed tiles with wobbling groutlines or surface reflections that keep reminding one that I didn’t get that one quite level enough can also get really irritating. And it’s another job to load onto Jane, who’s been quite busy enough lately. If you like the idea, you’ld have to think about it and maybe discuss it with someone who knows a lot more about tiling. Is there someone in the Wavy Navy who knows this stuff?
And how is Jane’s hand healing?
Leaving a spacer is one solution we’ve thought of, but haven’t been able to get hold of the tiler. And we could do the grouting. These are big heavy 12″ tiles for the main part, but the ones in question are 1/2″x6″.
Jane’s hand is all better.
We are so closing in on the end of this mess!
Oh, gee…you already answered. Duh…never said I have a brain…
The hand’s doing great, thanks! Well…the finger is. My hands are sore and ready to get back to typing! 😀
Actually what you describe is exactly what I’d been trying to find out if it’s do-able. )(is that a sentence?) I’ve got a call in to the tiling-guy to find out if it’s possible, but he’s having phone/answering machine problems, so I still don’t know if it could be done. Hopefully by this time tomorrow it will be moot.
BTW, Jane is finally blogging again!
It would have been nice to have a dad that did stuff like that. Mine was a pretty hard core alcoholic and spent far more time at the tavern than at home.
Needless to say, there was NO close relationship with MY dad. No home repair stuff or table saws or fishing or any such bonding type things a decent dad would have provided.
Sometimes you just got to wonder why people like my parents reproduce. Neither one of them were even vaguely competent to be parents. All I can say is, thank goodness for grandmothers, and the opportunity for therapy!
But anyway, good luck getting that tile in hand, and getting the bathroom finished! 🙂
I bought a Craftsman 10″ table saw back in 1989. It has the cast iron surface, I bought the extenders for either side. I also have a dado cutter, plus a milling head, so I can do things other than just cut. I bought one of the jigs for cutting box joints, and I’ve used it and the dado quite a bit. Depending on what I cut, I also use various blades. Unfortunately, my father is not handy around tools (he says that, not me), so what I’ve learned, I’ve learned either by myself or by watching other people, like Norm Abram, use their saws. My father was a machinist at various tool and die shops, and when he got hurt in an industrial accident (a hoist failed and dropped a 100 pound boring bar 2 feet onto the ring finger of his right hand), he went to work for the Post Office. There isn’t a lot of time for learning new skills when you’re working for them, that is, if you’re a substitute. My mother, OTOH, put in a double sink in the kitchen, did all of the plumbing except for the long drain to the main waste line, put in a concrete walk-up from the main sidewalk to our steps (it’s STILL in great shape, even though it’s almost 50 years old). Mom collects old hand tools, but also likes new power tools. But, neither of them use those tools, so I’m slowly inheriting tools from them.
I was wondering if maybe using shims instead of the gooey compound that Jane put under the tub, but then, the compound also “seals” the gap between the joists and the subfloor, so you don’t have drafts coming up from the basement, and it looks much better aesthetically.
The place that needed leveling was a multistep process because a leak had rotted a bit of the subfloor. A) remove 2 layers of tile. See damage. B) cut out bad spot of subfloor, C, cut a plywood board to drop in atop the under flooring (2×6’s)—we found a nice board but it had 3/4 holes init from its prior service. Jane cut up 3/4 inch dowel into plugs to fill tjose, shimmed and plastic-wooded the joint with the rest of the floor so it’s tight and smooth, THEN we got this powder to mix with water, that, in effect, is the concrete version of plaster ‘mud’ you use on drywall. That is now beautifully smooth and on a level with the original linoleum floor, so now we can do our peel-and-stick tiles over it (gluing those down for a little better bond than they come with.) Quite an operation, but it beats the scene from “The Money Pit” in which the bathtub arrives downstairs.
Don’t go second best on the tile in the interests of time: time will pass and the future will arrive anyways but you will always look at the unwanted tile and see it as not quite right. Especially don’t paint in a color: even if you get an exact color match, the reflective gleam will be off and you will see it each time.
On table saws and dads: oh yes, what a memory-filled combo. When I was very young and my parents were still together, my Dad got a table saw (wholesale, I presume) from my Grandpa’s hardware store in Reading, MA. Picking it up is the only working memory I have of that store (years later my spouse and I moved to Reading, but the store was then owned and operated by “young” employees of my Grandpa who bought the business from him.). My Dad used that table saw for 30 plus years after getting it. When he was making his and my step-mother’s weekend house in Vermont, I came up for two-week “time to visit your Dad in the custody agreement” vacations and worked on the house with him the full time. We cut and ripped the long pine planks for the “rough-look” siding and then stained them. Once the place was livable, he and I switched to making working shutters. They didn’t actually, once we attached them, because the windows stuck out from the siding and we hadn’t factored in the clearance, but the siding and shutters are still there. My Dad isn’t but I think of him and the table saw a lot. It sits in the barn, unused and I am certain totally antiquated now (bought ~1965) since he died 15 years ago, but I still am tempted to bring it home because it was such an important part of my relationship with my Dad.
1965—the wiring’s going to be plastic-coated, not cloth, and if the mice haven’t got it, it should run: that motor’s sealed, far as I know. Let me tell you, the modern ‘safety’ equipment is more in the way than not, for someone who’s used to a table saw. We ran ours without (unlike the modern Skilsaw, you CAN take the safety items off—or put them back on in the rare instance you have a reason. We were nearly pushed into an accident (no worse than a flying piece of 4×4 half-inch plywood, but hey!) by the safety equipment hanging a board. We were much more at home without it, so just the fact it’s plain shouldn’t be any drawback.
The primary function of safety guides is less about protecting users than to absolve the manufacturer of liability when careless (and litigious) fools injure themselves. As noted, knowing what one is doing — or just being careful, and accounting for the way one’s body follows through on motions — means one could work on equipment sans such “protections”.
Another Rule (as Ari would say) for those lacking experience — if your follow-through could take your hand into the blade, use a pusher stick (a handle with a notch to accommodate the board being cut) to do the final few inches of cutting.
Amen to that! Chase nothing with teeth that’s spinning at 5500 RPM.