Blogathon 20/23: Worn out!

It’s not yet midday and I am absolutely worn bloody out. It wasn’t getting up for puppy duty at 05.15 that got me to this state. Nor was it taking the big dogs for a walk around the village at 07.30. Neither was it taking the girls to school (except one of them wanted to be taken elsewhere but she didn’t tell me until we actually got to school). And it wasn’t the vacuuming that I’ve just finished doing downstairs. It was the bloody door. You know, the one under the stairs.

I’m not sure if the door to the walk-in cupboard under the stairs has ever fitted/closed properly. We had new flooring put in about four/five years ago, and we certainly haven’t been able to close it since then. But lingering in the back of my mind is the thought that perhaps we never have been able to close it, we’ve just jammed it almost but not completely shut.

It’s safe to say that with regard to fixing the door I’ve been prevaricating about the bush. The reason has been the screws that attach it to the hinge (and attach the hinge to the frame). They’ve been painted over more times than things that have been painted over very many times. And, naturally, they’ve been painted over with many thick layers of stodgy gloss paint. I have many bad experiences of trying to remove slot-head woodscrews that have been painted to death. And none of those bad experiences have ended well for anyone. But the urge, the drive, the desire to fix that walk-in cupboard door has been growing stronger with every passing day, week, month, year. Every time I open the door to get something out, the cupboard seems to have taken another step towards becoming The Cupboard Of Dooooom! And I have plans for the future of that cupboard and those plans do not include it being The Cupboard Of Dooooom! There will be shelves in the walk-in cupboard, and there will be hanging space, and filing space for Very Important Paperwork, and there will be cubbyholes for various items of footwear that, for some reason or other, seem not to live in the footwear cupboard. In general, there will be a system of organisation where there currently is chaos and anarchy.

So this morning, having dropped the aforementioned off at school and at the other place, I returned home, enjoyed a bowl of coco-pops (I’d rather have a bowl of coco-pops) and a hot chocolate and watched the second half of an episode of The Expanse. Then I girded my loins and tackled The Door. My first unexpected problem wasn’t the screws, it was my two apprentices. While I was on my hands and knees inspecting the lower hinge and screws, Mavis shoved her head through the crook of my elbow to see what I was doing. Then she licked my face. She is a very licky girl. While that was going on Pugsley jumped up onto my back and stood on my shoulders and neck. Whereas Mavis is a licky girl, Pugsley is part mountain goat. It’s very difficult to get anything done with a mountain goat on your neck and shoulders, and a licky girl giving your face the third dogwash of the morning. Eventually they got tired of giving me this attention, and went out into the garden to try and eat each other. I cracked on with The Door.

I’ve spent some time reading (and watching YouTube videos) about the best methods to remove heavily painted screws. Now it was time to put what I’d learned into action. I used my third-best fine-bladed wood chisel and carefully removed all paint from the head of the six screws. Then I got an old electrical screwdriver and scraped out what paint I could from inside the slots. Next, using a rubber mallet and the screwdriver, I chipped out the slots as thoroughly as I could. Here’s the cunning bit. Using a razor blade I cut around the screw heads as deeply as I could. Then I inserted my trusty heavy-duty slotted screwdriver into the first screw and eased it out so bloody easily. They all came out like that, it was amazing. No slips, no difficult bits, and definitely no stripping the head off the screws. It was easy-peasy. Then I took the door outside and, sureform in hand, started the reshaping. It took five attempts to get the precise fit I wanted, so that’s four goes at rehanging the door, closing it, opening it and saying ‘Nope, not good enough’. But it was worth it.

Mavis and Pugsley helped with every single step. I’m amazed I didn’t drop the door on either of them because they were under my feet the whole morning. And I managed to prevent both pups from eating any screws (though I think they may have ingested an ounce or two of woodshavings). Bit of a shame I put clean trousers on this morning, but hey ho. At least the walk-in cupboard is now ready for the next step of the plan.