doors shot

I ache, well my shoulders and arms ache. It's that healthy "I've been doing lots of useful things" ache that you get when you've spent two days trying to hold doors straight whilst chiseling, drilling, sawing and the like goes on around you. The house filled with sawdust and wood chips, despite the fact that much of the sawing took place in the garden, waking the neighbours who fancied sleeping later than 11am and covering the decking with snow-like drifts of sawdust.

In two days we hung three doors, it's not bad going considering how much work goes into it. I drank far too much coffee, vacuumed more times that I can remember and lugged doors up and down the stairs like a pro.

On Sunday evening, the third door hung, I hid away for a quiet beer in the spare room. It has changed so much in the last few weeks that I almost felt that I didn't know it at all. Soon the whole house will feel like that, my home will no longer be my home and before I get used to that I'll be gone, settling in somewhere new. It's exciting, and now I feel more prepared, after all at least I now know how to hang doors.