The Screen Door

This is one of those posts that really needs pictures. But, that will have to wait until tomorrow when I complete the work. I got it in my mind to paint the raw wood that Tinker had installed on the front door four years ago. At the same time, I decided to paint the screen door and to "fix" it. Like most screen doors, part of the screen is hanging out, blowing in the breeze, keeping out nothing. Bugs laugh at our screen door. I can hear them. Most fly in and tune the TV to their favorite shows. You would think that since all Southerners are raised with screen doors, we would know not to push on the screen but on the door frame. Ours has been flapping for years. And has yet to see its first brush full of paint. A regular unvarnished virgin, sort of speak. Anyway, painting the door jams white was not rocket (or political) science. But, the screen was a different story. It occurred to me to make a statement. I paged through the Bible-of-all-things-Southern, Southern Living, for ideas. I came across this line in advice from a decorator in Birmingham: "Say hello with color!" The exclamation point sold me. I returned from the Home Depot with a quart of pigment that will shout "HOWDY, Y'ALL!!!" This screen will have folks veering off the highway in astonishment. Right now, drying on the front porch is my freshly painted "Crimson Sky" screen door. The hot red color speaks volumes. I am just not exactly sure what it will be saying. We Episcopalians paint our parish doors red. It is supposed to signify the blood of Christ. I do not ascribe anything as noble to this screen. I think it looks great and I am excited to reinstall the hardware and hang it tomorrow. I promise I will take a few photos and post them.

The door is my first step in a diabolical plan to remake this old house. Next is the dining room. First step is to declutter it. Tinker has The Blessed Rebecca's gene for keeping stuff. Every drawer is crammed full. Every flat surface is covered. No cabinet door shuts properly because of the surplus. I am happily without the hoarder disease. I like simple. Several years ago I formulated the idea that the winner is the guy with finishes with the least, as long as that to which he adheres is of the genuinely precious. Few things in this world are truly precious. And, those things that are, are seldom contained in a physical form. Before I get off sounding highly principled, I have to admit to a weakness for cowboy boots. I have six pair. I will not live long enough to wear out all of them. I will put that fetish on my list of sins to confess at Mass next Sunday.

I figure it will take me an hour to reinstall the screen, put the hardward back on the door and hang it. By mid-morning tomorrow, we will have a new calling card for the world. So, if you are ever driving up or down US 431, my house is the one with the "Screaming Screen".