Tag Archives: doors

Products for a pandemic lockdown.

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The first one supposedly has merit in the fact that you won’t have to touch strange doors.

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Unfortunately, (or fortunately depending on your point of view) it also looks like a kinky sex toy.

Next is an electric wine aerator.

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Because Covid has us all at the end of our ropes and we don’t have enough patience left to let our reds breathe on their own.

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A wobble cushion to activate my core?

Just, no.

Isn’t that what husbands are for?

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Frozen shot glasses. Now we’re talking.

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I don’t bore easily and can’t see the need for one of these…. but our friends had one at their lakefront camp last year and said it was a riot.

Ya know, if frying insect life to a crisp is your thing.

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The end is in sight. I think…

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A few more windows needed trimming…

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Which meant a lot more measuring, cutting and cursing…

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Why the cursing?

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Because the last window was not what you… or any semi sober person… would call square.

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Oops.

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Cover the gap with quarter round, trim…. then call it good and move on to the porch door.

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Yes, the porch is my domain … so the porch door has a seasonally appropriate wreath. Man cave be damned.

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Trimming this slapped together frame for a door that came from the dump proved challenging.

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And yes, the language got as colorful as the wreath.

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But it was only when the husband looked down…

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And realized the floor moulding should meet the vertical door trim… not the other way around… that he knew he had some tinkering to do.

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But viola!

Adjustments were made and everything that needed to be trimmed was finally trimmed.

Is this the end of the Barn Mahal interior construction?

Only time will tell.

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Because when Rustoleum says red? They mean red.

 

Every few years it’s time to repaint the bulkhead doors.

 

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They’re metal and tend to see a lot of abuse.

Rain, snow, and baking sun all take their toll… and since the husband disappears every time the paint brushes come out?

 

 

The job falls to me.

I usually go out with some sandpaper to smooth and remove the flakes… but this spring the husband bought an old sander at a yard sale. Old.. with a capital O.

So he tossed it at me and said it would be much easier than my sandpaper.

 

 

From the look of the cord it was from the 1950’s…. and I think that was the poundage as well because just lifting it hurt my wrist. So when he came back to check my progress? I was using the sandpaper again.

Which… because he’s a man and can never be wrong… made him determined to prove his $5 purchase was worth while.

 

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He got no argument from me.

I stood back, nodded sagely and mumbled yes dear, that’s so much easier dear, at appropriate intervals.

Momma didn’t raise no fool.

 

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He sanded that baby from top to bottom.

 

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Inside and out… even though I rarely paint the interior.

BTW, if you search Google images for power sander memes?

 

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Anyway… when we moved into this house, the doors were painted a barn red so that’s what I’ve always repainted them.

Until this year, when I couldn’t find my usual brand of metal paint in barn red and went with Rustoleum’s Regal Red.

 

 

It was a bad idea.

Very bad.

Really, really bad.

Because when Rustoleum says red?

 

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They mean red!

Fire engine red.

Candy apple red.

Holy Crap that’s redRED!

It’s positively blinding.

 

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On the bright side, the doors do now match my hanging geranium.