(Written 31/08/2010. I'm not a natural DIY-er...)
A curious thing happened on Sunday. I opened the back door, and a panel fell off the bottom, rotted through. My immediate reaction, of course, was to call Dvina and find out how difficult hanging an exterior door would be.
"It's not that difficult," she replied. "All you have to do is chisel out slots for the hinges, drill some holes for the handles and lock, then paint it with waterproof stain, rub it down when it's dry and apply a second coat. Then you just screw it to the hinges the old one hung on and you're done." There was a pause. "And my day off is tomorrow."
Thank goodness, because I well remember my old Woodwork Master at school looking at my attempts to chisel and saying "I think we'll make something of you yet, Mark. My money's on a set of medical notes that will amaze and bemuse generations of doctors yet to come, but carry on holding a chisel like that and you may achieve greater things, like a post-mortem." (Always go to a Grammar School, if you can. The insults are so much better worded.)
However, by the time I picked Dvina up this morning, I had A Plan. I'd been charged with measuring up the door, and while doing so, I found that the side pieces and central area were still perfectly sound. So no need to buy a new door, then, just screw a couple of thin boards to the top and sides of the hole, job done!
Dvina looked at the hole and agreed, looking wary. Not because she didn't think that the plan would work, but because she's not used to me arriving at practical solutions when repairing things. I could see her mind working - "Surely there's some flaw that will later appear, leading to him electrocuting himself, setting the house on fire or breaking some kind of arms limitation agreement...?" (To be fair, my solutions usually include such flaws.)
No - apparently The Plan would work, so off we went to B&Q for what I thought we wanted, wood and screws. Then we bought what Dvina wanted, wood glue, a drill bit that corresponded with the screw size, some waterprooof stain and that triangular thing that goes on the bottom of an exterior door to shove the rain away. Finally, we had the wood cut to size, and crikey, that was a revelation! A B&Q operative takes the sheet of wood, hangs it on a wall, slides a big circular saw into place, sets certain ratios on a dial, then zoink, zoink, here's one panel, zoink, zoink, here's another, one final zoink and there's your triangular thing cut to size, too.
Back at my place, wood was glued, then Dvina drilled the holes through panel and door. We have an understanding on this kind of thing, which basically comes down to "Babba doesn't hold a drill." The exterior panel was glued and screwed into place, then I took her out to lunch. Later, the triangular thing went on, the interior panel was glued and screwed into place, and Dvina insisted on applying the wood stain as well, probably because she thought I'd suck the wrong end of the brush.
Thus, I had a repaired door. What's more, while it opens easily, it clears the bottom of the doorframe by scant millimetres, a testament to the precision Dvina works to. As I've remarked many times, the woman is a ruddy marvel. Speaking as one who believes that if it can't be fixed with gaffer tape and nails you have to get a new one, plus A Man to fit it, probably - she's once again saved me a lot of money, time and annoyance.
I'll add that DVDs of The Clangers series one and two will shortly be dropping through her letterbox.
If I ever achieve enough fame, or, more likely, notoriety, to be invited onto "Desert Island Discs", I shall insist on my luxury item being Dvina, and I shall put up a spirited defence for her inclusion. My final argument will be that without her, I'll die. Probably as I step ashore.
I have been allowed to rub down the wood stain and apply another coat tomorrow. It seems like a simple job, but keep your eyes on the news. "Portsmouth In Flames!" is still a potential headline.
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