I folded up the two work tables in our dining area so we could take them up the road for tomorrow's roundup. As I swept the floor, I recalled the time we laid the tile and the fear that we wouldn't have enough to finish the job.
We had bought the tile decades ago for another project, but ended up not using it. It looked like there was enough, so without counting the pieces we started the job. The pile was getting smaller as time went on, so we took one of the tiles to the tile store in Fresno where we had bought oodles of other stuff. We wanted to be sure we could buy more if we needed to.
"Nope, they don't make that anymore," the tile guy told us. Uh oh.
For some crazy reason which I can't recall, simply counting the remaining tiles wouldn't give us the information we needed to assure a complete job. We sweated it out as the job went on, and any cuts I had to make were done with absolute accuracy so there wouldn't be any mistakes. As we laid the last tile, I checked the "tile pile" and saw that along with cutoff waste there was one whole tile left. ONE!
We lucked out.