I rehung the dining room door yesterday. All painted up and with nice shiny new brass handles, it went up without any bother and looked really spiffy. Closed perfectly too, the latch clicking satisfyingly into place. Good job!
Except I couldn't open it again.
It was binding at the top right-hand corner. And when I say binding, it had grabbed hold of the door frame like a dear old friend that it had missed desperately all those long lonely weeks it had been lying on its back in the conservatory being subjected to the unbearable heat of day; the chill of night; the indignities of sanding and painting; not to mention the forceful SCREWING in of new hinges, but now it was back - BACK! - and it was damned if it was ever going to let go of its frame again.
In the end I had to use a chisel to lever the blimmin' thing open.
A few seconds with the electric plane while I buzzed a millimetre or two off the top edge, and all was well.
It's a funny thing though. The door was off for three weeks. When it first came off the room looked incredibly bare, but we got used to it. Kinda. Now that it's back up, and having a door in a doorway, well, it's not exactly unusual is it? But the room looks different, so I find myself squinting at it with a vague sense that something's changed and taking a moment or two to realise that it must just be that the door is back from treatment.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment