An ongoing account of work that probably should have stopped.

Old Mrs. Johnson said her bathroom door was sticking.

I told her that was common after a renovation. The house needs time to get used to the improvements.

She said it had been three weeks.

Some houses are stubborn.

Billy suggested I check the hinges. I checked them.

Three. Right where you’d expect.

Nothing wrong there.

I closed the door halfway and studied the gap. You could tell immediately what had happened.

Too much door.

Explained it to Old Mrs. Johnson. She asked whether the frame could be crooked.

“If the frame’s crooked, that means your house is crooked.”

I looked around.

“Let’s hope it’s the door. I only brought the small sander.”

She went downstairs.

I got the sander.

Now, the trick to sanding a door is taking off just enough material. You don’t want to rush it. A little at a time, checking your work as you go.

I gave it twenty minutes.

Tried the door.

Still stuck.

That was surprising. There was a respectable pile of door on the floor.

I sanded a little more.

This time it closed.

Beautiful.

Pulled the handle.

Wouldn’t open.

That’s how snug you want it.

Called through to Old Mrs. Johnson that I’d fixed the sticking.

She asked why I was still in the bathroom.

“Quality control.”

I gave the handle a firm pull. Came off in my hand.

Cheap hardware. You see it everywhere now.

Fortunately, I keep a screwdriver in my pocket for situations like this. Unfortunately, that pocket was in the pants I’d worn yesterday.

Had a look around for something suitable.

Toothbrush was too flexible.

Nail file was promising, but Old Mrs. Johnson had bought a good one. Took a while to bend.

Billy called.

“How’s the door?”

“Closed.”

“Does it open?”

“Wasn’t the original complaint.”

He suggested taking out the hinge pins.

Good thinking. I’d already checked the hinges, so we knew where those were.

Used the nail file and a bottle of moisturizer to tap the first pin upward.

Worked.

Second one came out even easier. By the third, I’d developed a system.

That’s the thing about experience. You get faster.

The door tipped toward me. I caught it with my shoulder.

Solid door. Nice to see somebody still making things properly.

Now, you’d think a door with no hinges would be easy to move. But this one had been fitted very precisely.

By me.

I lifted. Twisted. Gave it a little encouragement with my knee.

There was a crack.

Then another.

Then we both arrived in the hallway.

I stayed underneath for a moment to assess the situation.

Old Mrs. Johnson came up the stairs.

“Why is my door on the floor?”

“Easier to work on.”

She looked at the bathroom. Then the door. Then the handle still in my hand.

“Will it be finished today?”

I told her the hard part was done.

Put the door across two chairs and had a proper look at it. That’s when I noticed the mark along the top edge.

We’d been sanding the wrong side.

Easy mistake. Doors look very similar from most angles.

Trimmed the top. Put the hinges back. Hung the door.

Closed it.

Opened it.

Closed it again.

Smooth as anything.

There was a small gap down one side where I’d done the sanding, but that would help the bathroom dry out.

Old Mrs. Johnson came to inspect.

“It doesn’t latch.”

I looked at the handle. The latch was a little low.

Nothing to worry about. Just needed to raise the door.

Found a couple of washers in the toolbox. Slipped them into place. Tightened everything up.

Tried it again.

Click.

Perfect.

I stood beside the finished job and folded my arms.

“There. Privacy restored.”

Old Mrs. Johnson looked through the gap beside the door.

I could see she was impressed.

Then something groaned above us.

Little sprinkle of dust.

The top hinge pulled out. The door dropped half an inch.

Still latched, though.

I pointed that out.

Then the bathroom light flickered.

From inside the wall came a long, low hiss.

Old Mrs. Johnson looked at me.

“Anyway… follow me for more DUI’s… er, DIY’s.”

In our next installment: Old Mrs. Johnson asks why the hallway is warm. The Hammered Handyman explains that heated floors usually cost extra.