Monday, May 19, 2008

Correction


Well, I am a big girl and I can admit when I've made a mistake. I've realized that I left a very important item off the joy rush list I made for Barb. Forget the stupid mountains, all right? They're probably full of deer ticks anyway. What should have been on the list instead, what give me a supreme feeling of joy and elation every single time I see them, are the items you see pictured to the left and to the right. (If I were mrs. g, I would draw some arrows here, but I don't know how yet.)



That's right, those are simple wooden bifold doors. And isn't it always the simplest things that give us the most happiness? A child's smile, say, or a sunny day, or closet doors that actually conceal the ungodly mess behind them....


You see, once upon a time about a year ago, we bought this nice townhouse. A townhouse that was fairly functional, with all its closet doors working the way they should. They opened, they closed, they didn't fall on anyone. It was a beautiful sight to see.

Being experienced home wreckers, we went to work fixing all that. Soon enough, not only did we have a torn up floor in the kitchen and variegated paint striping all over the living room walls, but we also had two (not one, but two) closet doors that could no longer hide the cluttered insides of our closets from prying eyes. The hall closet door gave up the ghost and fell out altogether, while the linen closet door's hinges broke so that it hung limply open, displaying my mismatched collection of towels, washcloths, and various toiletries for all to see.

We tried to adjust. If we were having guests, we would prop the door in front of the hall closet and pray no one tried to use it. One time I failed to secure the door properly and it fell on top of a friend's 6-year-old daughter. I hastened to her aid, but not before retrieving the door from her fallen body and jamming it back into place before anyone could see the motley collection of junk that fills the closet. I figured, hey, if she were already unconscious, an extra minute wouldn't hurt. But public humiliation lasts forever.

The linen closet, though not as much of an eyesore, presented its own particular challenges. The way it hung open, it half-blocked the doorway to one of the bedrooms; so we developed a sort of sidewise, crab-like movement to enter and exit that particular room. It got so that I sort of forgot that we hadn't always lived in this fashion, with sanitary pads falling out into the hallway and Swiffer mops dropping out and hitting me on the head as I walked by.

Things went on like this, until one special day my husband uttered the three little words that wives love to hear: "Call the handyman." Be still, my heart! I mean, is that romantic, or what? I was on the phone in a thrice (whatever the heck that means) and secured the handyman's promise to show up at our house before Larry could change his mind.

So now I rejoice inwardly every time I walk into the house and see our beautiful (though as yet unpainted) hall closet door doing its job of making our foyer look neat and clean. And whenever I go upstairs, my heart leaps up as I behold the clean (though as yet unpainted) wooden facade of my linen closet, keeping our toilet paper and towels and cleaning supplies safely hidden from public view.

It's the little things that mean the most in life, folks. Don't you forget it.

Pin It

31 comments:

  1. I'm very happy for you! I know the feeling of being 'released' from the angst of something not working right.

    Now that's off your mind, you'll have time to enter my bloggy giveaway.

    ReplyDelete
  2. It looks fabulous, even without paint. I also love it when my husband says things like, "call the handyman" or plumber, electrician, etc. When he finally gives up a particular vision of being a D.I.Y superstar, everything functions so, so much better.

    ReplyDelete
  3. They are beautiful doors. A house can never have too many. I am giddy just thinking about all the crap you can stuff in there.

    ReplyDelete
  4. It really is the little things in life that make us the happiest!

    And for me, anything that hides my clutter makes my heart sing!

    ReplyDelete
  5. How long do I have to be married to reach the level of romance that you have? Because I want it. I would love nothing more than to hear my husband utter those three little words.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Those are really nice doors. I have a serious case of door envy though because our doors are all laminated metal, circa 1972, and splattered with paint because the maintenance doesn't bother to use tarps or tape when they paint. Our apartment in FL had such nice doors....

    ReplyDelete
  7. They do look nice. I love doors--how they close and you can't see anything behind them! Thanks for reminding us how this little thing means a lot.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I, too, get excited when my husband says "call the plumber" or "call the handyman" right up until he says "and ask them how we do . . ."

    ReplyDelete
  9. I'm amazed at how we can just get used to living with the walls tumbling down around us. At our last house we pulled out the stinky old carpet because if it was just gone we would have to replace it. 2 years of subfloor later we replaced it so we could sell our house.

    ReplyDelete
  10. that sounds like our house. we have all these things that probably we could take care of but we adapt to them and live with it. i have NEVER heard the words 'call the handyman' never.

    ReplyDelete
  11. DIY and the whole home improvement trend thing has been very, very bad for my marriage. I like your three little words a lot. I also like your closet doors.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Bea-utiful! Don't you ever wonder why we wait so long? Oh wait, I remember. It is our certainty that our children will just break it again.

    ReplyDelete
  13. A friend of mine pulls off all closet doors and hangs drapes instead. Looks cute, in her house. I like a good solid door that can be locked if necessary!
    I try to keep everyone out of my garage...it could kill you.
    Blessings, EJT
    PS, finally a new post (2 actually) at my place!

    ReplyDelete
  14. THOSE are the three little words that mean so much.

    Lovely closet doors. There are similar projects in our home that need doing, but my husband can't bring himself to say those three words yet.

    ReplyDelete
  15. jennifer h - Well, you know guys - they're afraid of the commitment.

    ReplyDelete
  16. I saw those pictures at the top and I started to get a little nervous. see, the thing is that I don't actually want to see your house. My mental picture is absolutely awful, and while I don't really want you to have to live in the mess I've pictured, it does make me feel better about my house.
    So I've seen your doors but no more. Please! and DO NOT post photos after you paint.

    ReplyDelete
  17. alison - I swear, I don't know how to take what you just said. So I won't think about it.

    ReplyDelete
  18. "It's the little things that mean the most in life, folks. Don't you forget it."

    You mean like deer ticks?

    ReplyDelete
  19. I feel like I have violated you looking at a picture of something on your blog. I have always taken such comfort in the "no photos" philosophy.

    In other news. congrats on the wonderful doors, making closet organization something of the past.

    KEEP BELIEVING

    ReplyDelete
  20. angie - inanimate objects are okay, so long as they don't give away location! I had cake pictures on there once, also.

    ReplyDelete
  21. Hahaha - it sounds like our house!

    We have no bathroom door - got removed when no 2 locked herself in, and the husband has to smash it down to rescue her!
    It wasn't a problem until we had guests to stay....

    ReplyDelete
  22. Hubby loves the destruction part of home renovation, not putting it all back together. It took 5 years from when he gutted the upstairs bathroom, hallway and downstairs hall until it was reassembled. It was only finished because we paid my father who is retired to finish it...

    ReplyDelete
  23. I bet you just stand back and look at them, don't you. Yeah. I would.

    ReplyDelete
  24. Way to take out the 6-year-old!

    I know what you mean. We're working on a new walkway in our backyard, and I fully anticipate doing internal flips whenever I look at it. Kind of like whenever I see my new bedside lamp which I adore.

    ReplyDelete
  25. I'm with you. For my birthday this year I'm asking for an electrical outlet in my kitchen to be fixed. Silly me wants to plug in the kettle!

    I love the doors too. They don't need paint!

    ReplyDelete
  26. I have barely been online all week, so I'm playing catch-up and so glad I caught up to you tonight. I was sorely in need of a chuckle. Thanks for that.

    ReplyDelete
  27. I would be happy if someone just picked up the random pieces of clothing that get left in a crumpled heap wherever they get taken off...

    ReplyDelete
  28. New doors are a wonderful thing. I wish my teen would close her door more often. Nobody needs to see that sight.

    ReplyDelete
  29. My husband supports our family by satisfying other men's wives. As a handyman. No, really, one of his customer's husband's thanked mine for satisfying his wife! Thank you for helping us buy groceries.

    ReplyDelete
  30. Wow, I want a few of those! My husband took away our closet doors to give to someone else, and we never have replaced them in I lost track of how many years, at least a decade. He put in a tub to replace a fiberglass one once though and that was the most romantic thing he ever did.

    ReplyDelete

LinkWithin

Blog Widget by LinkWithin