Although we have the best of intentions, Scott and I are not particularly adept at home repairs. Try as we might to remain calm and focused, our projects almost always end up with bloodshed, bruises and more cursing than one would hear on a pirate ship. Because we don't have a stellar track record, we tend to wait until something is completely broken or debilitated before embarking on the project.
storm door had been hanging by two hinges for the past two years. We've
had to physically lift the door up to put it back into place whenever it
was opened. Because the door didn't close without our not-so-subtle
fix, it had become a source of embarrassment whenever anybody came over.
Despite not hanging properly, not closing completely and being rotted
through the bottom, we procrastinated procuring a replacement because we
dreaded the installation.
Over the weekend we finally had enough
of our broken down front door and decided to tackle the project. With
tools in hand, Scott set out to remove the old door which turned out to
be easy because it was only secured with two hinges. Because the removal
was so easy, Scott and I were optimistic that the new door would go up
as easily. After all, even the box boasted "easy to hang" written in
large red letters.
The box is a liar. It took three hours,
multiple attempts and more than one episode of colorful language to get
the "easy to hang" door in place. At one point it was resting squarely
on top of my prosthesis so that Scott could line it up properly. (A
benefit of being an amputee I suppose; I was able to keep the door in
position without feeling any pain or expending any effort.)
an afternoon that was worth of our procrastination, the door is finally
hung and fully operational. It looks and works great. Soon our bruises
will heal and we will be able to look at it without scorn and