As I mentioned in the previous post, presuming anyone actually took the time to read it instead of just looking at the pictures, Daddykins and I had agreed to replace the door, and after buying the materials, there was no going back….

I couldn’t actually believe it was happening. A DIY project between me, Daddykins, several pencils and a hacksaw. Things were bound to go horribly wrong.

I’ll be honest. the only thing that went wrong was the laptop. I’d set it up, with the webcam, to take a timelapse of the goings on from the comfort of my window. Unfortunately, the camera gave up the ghost after about an hour.

Between 3PM and 7PM, we had successfully constructed a door.

Please excuse how I look. I was knackered (Daddykins did the measurements, I did all of the manual labour), but that is a complete door. I’ve not felt pride like that for a long time, and I’ve not enjoyed actually doing anything like that for a good few years.

Amazingly, the door survived the night, and the next day came the completion of the door frame. I got to use the mallet (and a screwdriver) to knock out the old rotten wood. The job didn’t last long, as the wood was considerably more rotten than it looked. So were the nails. Rusty, rusty nails.

I avoided the tetanous-needing nails, and moved onto the woodstain. I have never had a good relationship with paintbrushes, as anyone who has seen the Mercuryvapour Office Space can testify. I gave up painiting the doors in this particular room the moment I realised I couldn’t actually reach the top of the door without needing a chair. For six years, this painting project has remained incomplete, and considering the fumes from the gloss paint turns my chest into some kind of pulmonary alveolus graveyard. Luckily, the fumes from this soupy-looking product didn’t bother me. In fact, it looked a bit too much like a can of tomato soup…

I managed to complete the task, with minimal damage to my clothes, and the door was properly stained. This, unfortunately, gave me another chance to pose in front of the camera

There are so many things wrong with this picture. My awful pose was worse than the last one (though my man-tits are less prominent), I’m wearing a baseball cap (I never wear headgear as a rule, but I really didn’t fancy an incinerated scalp), and you can see the partial mess I’d left behind. At least the door was an impressive shade of “red”. Well, saying that, my neck was redder, but you’re not seeing a photo of that.