How to Hang a Door ........ Maybe Not

I refilled my prescription. Maybe my body has become accustomed to the drug ..... but I suddenly have so much energy! So much so that I have pulled everything out of my kitchen cabinets and cleaned like a mad woman. My pantry is organized and one can simply open the doors and see what is available without moving things around.

My pots and pans sit ready to serve with the lids stacked neatly in this found object. Really don't know what it was meant to be, but it is stainless steel and has sections that are just the right size to hold the lids. Could be something that is meant for the tools and gadgets of He Who tinkers with tools. Whatever it is it is now MINE and I defy anyone who would attempt to take it!

We have been here nearly 11 years. I think back to my very first thought when I saw my new living accommodations. "No way am I living in this." So many things to consider. I decided our 40' motor home was fine. We could build a house to my liking. Problem solved.

We took possession of the park mid-season. This meant that all our time, energy, and money went to the business. We stayed in the RV for about 10 days. I would get up and ready myself for the day, walk my 4 dogs, then check on all the bathrooms. Open the office at 9 am and there I was trapped until 9 pm.

All of our boxed belongings were in the living quarters. One bedroom had boxes stacked floor to ceiling. Our king size bed was set up in the other bedroom with some of the furniture and there was a path through the living room to the front door and from there, through the kitchen to the office. My sofa and love seat was in the living room and this is where my Saint Bernard spent the days, sprawled on the sofa. She would only allow our tiny Emmy to share with her, leaving the other doxie, Oscar and Sarge, our Collie, to make do on the love seat. This meant that Sarge was on the floor and Oscar had the loveseat to himself.

I would lock the store and take them out every two hours or so, and I did have a bathroom close at hand. The kitchen had a stove and sink, very little counter space and few cabinets. My RV had more space to cook. I tried to use the stove for meals and found that I had two working eyes and an oven that burned everything.

Being open 12 hours a day was tiring, not to mention confining. I wasn't busy the entire time, but someone had to be there. To save my sanity we moved into the living quarters to be able to have some semblance of a life.

I made do with the kitchen that first year, stacking most of my kitchen boxes to be opened when I discovered a place to put things. The second year we opened a wall between the "house" and the personal laundry room, which measured 11 X 11. I needed a kitchen and there was another space that would accommodate a washer and dryer.

Part of this newly gained space had the furnace in it. My handy man, He Who tinkers with tools, framed a wall around it and closed it into it's very own space. It had need of a door and we found one at a salvage store. 

He Who tinkers with tools will often stop mid-job to ponder things. This was a solid door, not hollow core. It was heavy. When I saw the tiny hinges he meant to employ, I did question the advisability of using them. This is when he made his ever popular declaration that he knew what he was doing. I walked away, secure in the knowledge that his plan would either work, or he would be re-hanging a door.

He had a set of three hinges. He played with the hanging of the door for an entire day. He put the door up with only two hinges. After a day of measuring and re-measuring and lots of mumbling, the door was installed with an upper hinge and a  ....... I know you must be thinking "lower", right? No, you are wrong. It was middle. Nine years ago.

I stopped asking about that third hinge after the first few years. The door was a treat to open and closed, but I got used to it. Life went on. Until today. he has been keeping this door ajar to loop the straps of his coveralls over the top of the door. Despite the fact that I had a hook available just for that purpose right next to the back door.

He wants them close to the wood stove. He acted like I put that hook by the back door in order to freeze his coveralls on purpose. So now that the door is in use he has noticed that it doesn't "hang right". So, today, after nine years, he finally admits that the hinges are too small. Before he can escape and run to the hardware store to purchase more, his thrifty wife hands him a container of used hinges and pins.

He sets out early in the afternoon to re-hang the door using the correct sized hinges. But, much to his dismay he finds that the door is now warped. And after only nine years of hanging by two small hinges not placed to equally divide the weight of the door. Now he thinks we need to get another door. And they say women like to shop.