Satisfaction

It's funny, the little things that give satisfaction. When we moved into Foggygates last summer there was a small pantry in the basement that was more or less inaccesible. The door had warped so it would only open about a foot, and the hinges were held on by a combination of painted-over screws and nails that was obviously going to take more than a few minutes to get through. Inside the pantry there was about 50 years worth of dirt and cobwebs, anhd some of the shelves had fallen down, so there was going to be a lot of work to do before we could actually use it, even after we got through the door.

So, of course, I did nothing about it. But then this morning, while searching for a 3 lb bag of walnuts amid the piles and bags of canned goods, sacks of potatos and onions and all the other stuff that should be neatly organised on the pantry shelves, and instead is strewn all over the floor in the room outside it, I reached that "enough" point.

So, with shovels and rakes and implements of destruction, or, more accurately, a claw hammer and two oversized, industrial-strength screwdrivers, I went after the door hinges.

After about fiften minutes of hammering, clawing and other violent mayhem, I won. And the door is actually still in one piece, it's just not attached to the hinges anymore. After months of walking past it every day, being annoyed that I hadn't gotten to the task yet, it's amazing how much satisfaction one can get out of a little job, finally accomplished. Of course, it the pantry itself still has to be cleaned out. Maybe tomorrow.

I just need a hammer...