The Doors of Deception

We live in an old house. We knowingly and willingly entered into the contract to own and be stewards for said house. It is said the only thing that works consistently in an old house is its owner. Truer words were never spoken. It definitely pays to be handy, or at least intrepid in an old home, especially when your pocketbook and your wife make gutting it and starting over an impossibility.

Emily, you see is a historic preservationist. She actually is a commissioner on the Grand Rapids Board of Historic Preservation. No vinyl windows for us! The fact that we have vinyl siding, (installed by a previous owner), is an infamnia! It was only the promise, written and notarized, that I would one day remove said siding and restore it to proper wood lapstrake siding that got her to sign the mortgage papers with me. Since we're married, it seemed proper to live together. I know that's a little old fashioned, but oh well.

I know I have written about our house before. It is only natural that something which takes up so much of my energy, money and motivation would be a frequent subject on my web log (since we're being old-timey). Among the idiosyncrasies in our particular old house, was the bathroom door Because of age, settlement, and some previously done ham-handed "improvements", it was difficult to close. It needed to be pushed inward to the jamb rather purposefully in order to hear the 'click' that indicated it was latched. Not doing so virtually assured that one of my cats, who by the by hate closed doors of any kind, would drop by and simply pop a paw under the door, reducing whatever modesty you had to nothing.

It has happened.

Once ensconsed properly and safely, a stranger would find getting back out of the room was difficult as the knob also required a trick... you see, you couldn't just turn it, it would just spin. You had to grab the escucheon piece behind the knob and turn it. It was best accomplished while pushing the door into the jamb, to avoid a somewhat alarming 'pop!' when the door sprung back open.

So, every time someone new came to the house, we had to explain the whole process. There was a powerpoint and a written placard, laminated for durability and a physical demonstration of the process. Of course, our guest would be doing the pee pee dance the entire time. I can't tell you how many people we sent home prematurely with wet pants. We started to get low on towels, since we would insist they put one down on their car seat before they drove away. It was the least we could do.

Over the last two years, we have been slowly but steadily removing our globbily painted trim upstairs, including the door frame of the bathroom. I took the door off, with designs on cleaning it up,repainting it and reinstalling it. But nothing is ever that simple.

For three weeks, we had no door on the bathroom. I stripped the many layers of paint from the door, which takes awhile. Especially the gummy layer(s?) lead and oil paints were slow going. One side of the door, the side facing the landing, (it isn't really a hallway, just a spot with doors everywhere you turn), had paint over top of finish. I got most of the finish off, but not all.
This turned out to be a mistake as even though I primed and prepped the door, paint would simply not take on the center panel where there was still finish that I didn't remove.

So I ended up removing the paint off that side of the door. Yes, the paint I just put on. Yes, even the primer.

I decided I liked the look of the center panel in finish with the stiles of the door painted. I figured it would break up the feeling of claustrophobia on the small 2nd floor landing. I like the look. Then I decided I didn't like the old brass hardware. We had already purchased bone white antique knobs to replace the mishmash of knobs we had. We have removed all the bright brass in our house and replaced it with finished like oil rubbed bronze, which we prefer.

And Em wanted a working lock on the bathroom door. So, I ended up having to adjust the mortise for the new works and once I got it put together I really hated the brass. So, some bronze backplates are on special order... for a dear price, I might add.

Long story short, it took us a couple hours to hang the door, (remember nothing is square) and get it to fit and open and close and lock and work. Three weeks of work and it isn't done, but it is up, working, and just waiting for the new "jewelery" to come in. Then I will touch up all the spots that got dinged up in the install and voila, 5 weeks start to finish.

What did we learn, (or learn again)?
1. Home improvement shows have crews of professionals doing the work behind the scenes.
2. Nothing gets done in 1/2 hour... or even 3 1/2 hours. It takes me that long to find stuff I
should have put away last time.
3. Next time, given the choice between hanging a door, or hanging myself, I'll gladly take the
noose and walk under my own power to the highest tree I can find.
4. After all that work, the door still looks like it is almost 90 years old in an almost 90 year old
house and doesn't fit well and upon close inspection looks pretty dodgy. And there is nothing,
shy of moving to a new house that will fix that.
5. Undoing someone else's mistake is worse than trying to undo your own, because you at least
know what mindset you were in when you made the mistake and can back-track. Trying to
undo a strangers work that was done long ago is much like slow torture. Each new step
reveals another layer of hell.
6. As discussed by the neighbors at our recent Christmas party, you can either pay $300,000 to
buy a perfect house, or $150,000 now and $150,000 more over the next 15 years to have a
house that is not perfect, but is close enough that you can take a year or two off before starting
all over again.

My need for symmetry and organization requires I go to 10 on the list, but I think that about covers it. One door to finish, three to go (six if you include closets). I'm shooting for 2020.

Did I mention I am restoring the storm windows over the winter, too? Oh, that's a whole 'nother story.