It’s a nice door, not top of the line because I refuse to pay more for a custom order storm door than I would a used car… but it’s a decent quality. Better than the floor models they have in stock.
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And as you can see, my husband paid close attention to the opening instructions.
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The box promised “Easy Installation” so we figured we could handle it.
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We were wrong.
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The instructions were daunting, and not overly clear.
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We had to check them so many times, I taped the sheet to the kitchen door for easy reference.
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We spent a good hour getting prepped and making sure everything was positioned properly.
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And then spent another hour installing the hinge rail…. incorrectly.
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Which, by the Swiss cheese condition of the door frame? Clearly we weren’t the first to do.
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After another hour of fiddling… we high fived. The door was hung.
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This particular door has two hydraulic thingamabobs… you know, the doohickeys that hold it open. They’re not always easy to seat, so those instructions were taped to the door as well.
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The bottom one gave us trouble, as evidenced by the husband lying down on the job. It has this special whatchamacallit you tap with your foot to freeze the door open and it kept getting in the way of the screws needed to secure it.
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Another hour later, for a total of four, the door was hung. The whoosits were in place and we were ready to put on the handles and locks.
The ones the salesman told us came with the door.
The ones we didn’t have because they didn’t come with the door.
The ones the instructions said came separately.
The ones we had to make an hour long round trip to the store to purchase for an extra $100.
Grrr. 😡
By the time we got back, five and a half hours into the “easy installation”… we called it quits for the day and retired to the barn porch for adult beverages.
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With Lord Dudley Mountcatten trying in vain to push open the halfway installed door.
I had a good chuckle at some local Maine events recently.
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Whoopie pies are a thing up here. They come in numerous flavors, everyone makes them and everyone loves them. (Except my husband, for reasons I’ve never understood. They’re delightful) And while a wine pairing with whoopies might seem strange to some, it’s perfectly logical to us.
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Cocktails? Yes.
Fried bugs? No.
I’d have to be very, very happy to reach for those.
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Can’t believe I missed this one!
Maine has very few rabbits left in the wild and there are none in my area. I would totally have eaten pastries and cuddled bunnies!
I’m a Jersey girl born and bred, and when I was growing up? Bruce ruled.
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I still have my original vinyl from 1975. I played it endlessly, learned all the words to all the songs and can still sing along verbatim to this day. Including a perfectly timed grunt on the title track. IYKYK.
Bruce’s raspy vocals filled with angst, Clarence’s mournful horn…Thunder Road, Jungleland. I can almost smell the shore.
❤️
My second perfect album?
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The year was 1992, MTV was all we watched and Clapton was mesmerizing. Stripped down acoustic guitar performances that seared right through your soul. Bluesy and heartfelt, it was a masterpiece. His tender version of Layla rocketed to the top but the lesser known songs like Before You Accuse Me and Nobody Knows You When You’re Down and Out still resonate. Tears in Heaven? I can still feel the pain.
Useless but (hopefully) entertaining. That’s my blog in a nutshell.
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Say what?
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I don’t call being two inches tall and looking exactly like a mouse normal for a human child, but what do I know?
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Mine is clearly an extra…. for when my front two wear out from excessive rolling.
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Leave it to a no nonsense Mainer. Angus King wants Medicare to pay for $12 bath mats for seniors so they won’t slip in the shower and break a hip. A simple and cheap solution, so naturally the government won’t go for it.
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I know nothing about the history of the pubic wig. And I plan on keeping it that way.
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I do believe I’ve found my spirit animal.
Cheers!
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
River's world..... 