One door closes...

At first glance this looks like merely a closed door. But it is oh-so-much more than that. Well, not really. But the fact that I can now close this door is what is so spectacular. Let me back up...I own a darling 90-year-old bungalow. Her name is Loraine and I love her. Like any 90-year-old woman, her exterior is a little weathered and in need of a makeover, but on the inside she is full of warmth and character.

Well, the first two years I owned this house the bathroom door opened and closed as it should. My mom loves this house even more than I do. So when I took a job that forced me to move to another town my mom decided that she would renovate sweet little Loraine and I could sell the new and improved version. Part of her overhaul was to replace the flooring in the bathroom. Which required the removal of the toilet. And the addition of subflooring (which wasn't lined up perfectly with all the pipes and holes). After much frustration trying to get the toilet reinstalled, the best they could do was place it and inch or so further from the wall than it had been. They discovered afterwards that they couldn't shut the door. But by then they'd had enough and really couldn't care less. At point in time we knew I was returning to town and didn't plan on selling Loraine after all. The door wasn't that big of an issue with me because at the time I lived alone and, in the event of company, the nearby hallway door could be closed for privacy. Which worked out perfectly, save one incident involving my sweet nephew, my good friend Mindy, and a small Christmas get together. I'll let her share the details.

But after three years of dealing with it I decided it was finally time to do the deed. My mom came over this week and we tackled the project together. Phase one: turn off water supply. Not as easy as I would have thought. Had to borrow a neighbor man to do that. Phase two: remove toilet. Easy-peasy! Except for the water left in the bowl (splish splash!) and what was left of that nasty wax ring. So gross! Thought we'd have to stuff a rag in the opening but not necessary. Phase three: remove tiling and chisel away at the subflooring near the main pipe (or hole or whatever). No hay problema. Rock on, Rosie! Phase four: purchase new wax ring and anchoring screws (one had slipped down beneath the floor and into the crawl space below the house). Here's where things got a little tricky...we were nasty sweaty and had wax goo and lord knows what else from the bottom of the toilet all over our hands. And the water was off! I had already soaped up my hands at this point. What was one to do? Remember the splish splash still in the toilet bowl? Yeah, I'm not proud, but I did what I had to do! Phase five: reinstall toilet. We practiced I don't know how many times to make sure we placed it just right. Every time we had the screws perfectly placed. So mom stuck the wax ring on the bottom of the toilet and we hoisted it up once more and then lost one of the screws. In the depths of my crawl space below the flooring. Took my mom forever to find it. Back up she came and we tried again. Took like four or five times! And lots of sweat. And cursing. But now it's done and my bathroom door finally closes! And maybe sometime soon my friend Mindy will visit me again.