I don’t know who it was, but I’m pretty sure someone came into my house during Christmas and left a bunch of decorations that I didn’t have before Christmas. There is no way I could have had all this stuff stored, even in this big house. Now it was all over the living room, waiting to be put away again until next year’s insanity compels me to drag it all out again. My plan had been to organize everything and decide on things to discard during January. A bout with sinus, no doubt due to our bipolar weather patterns that brought record highs, thunderstorms, and snow all within 24 hours. We were on our second snow, and it seemed an apt time to put away Christmas decorations. Organization and purging can wait until next year.
Clay, my handyman friend, was ready to help restore it to the Christmas closet, a deep, narrow old closet just off my bedroom with shelves in one end. It’s not good for anything else, other than seasonal decorations and a few seasonal clothes and coats.
“You know,” I said thoughtfully, “we should just take every single thing out of that closet before we put this stuff back.” That was pretty simple, since most of the things in there were just haphazardly stuck in there to make room for Christmas decorations. Turns out, there were also quite a few odd shoes in there. Scout was delighted to have so many new shoes to add to his toy collection and I found a couple I had been wondering about. I also found the missing part of an over-the-door hook thing I had puzzled over. Now, if I can only find the other part again. In no time at all, the closet was empty. We even swept off the cobwebs from high overhead. And took the time to hang a mirror that was stored in the closet.
Clay’s next sentence sent a chill down my spine. “This would be a really good time to paint this closet,” he said, looking at the bare walls in speculation. I looked at the expanse of old wallboard, which had never seen a paintbrush, and almost got swept up in his idea. Luckily, I came to my senses.
“That stuff will soak paint up like a sponge,” I said. “No.” Then, more slowly, “Wallpaper would actually be better.” Clay looked alarmed. He doesn’t do wallpaper. I looked again at the very tall ceiling and thought better of the idea. “No, I’m not doing wallpaper in there. The walls are just fine like they are.”
It wasn’t so much the idea of painting that alarmed me. It was what it would probably lead to. A few years ago, when I was still in my other house, I enlisted Clay to build some shelves in my bathroom closet. He built some really nice custom shelves, no problem. But before the project was finished, we had done new tile in the bathroom, the kitchen and dining room. We also painted the dining room and the trim in all three rooms. I sort of understood how it happened – it made sense to do the floor while the closet was empty, the tile in the bathroom looked really pretty, and we had a couple of boxes left over to start the kitchen. Then, I discovered that the tile was on sale, and it seem prudent to get enough to do the dining room too. The new tile made the color of the dining room look off, so we painted and of course then the trim needed refreshing. So, there we were – two months and several hundred dollars later. All I meant to do was build some shelves. There is no telling where painting that closet might lead.
The next problem was the closet door, which only opens about three quarters of the way and leaves barely enough room for a skinny person to pass by. The configuration of the closet, which was added much later than the original house was built, is a little odd. This would mean that we had to close the door every time we took a box to the closet, reopen it and repeat endlessly. There were a lot of boxes. “Maybe we should just take all the boxes in the bedroom first,” I said.
“I’m going to take the door off,” Clay said. To me, this sounded like a project that would involve the rest of the day and many, many tools that we wouldn’t be able to find. Then putting it back would be a major undertaking. I expressed my thoughts, but Clay seemed confident. He was right – a few taps with the hammer and the door was off.
Somehow, we got every box on the closet shelves. There is not room for so much as a piece of cardboard in there, but all the Christmas stuff is there. I still can’t believe it. And the door was easily replaced on the hinges. I did think out loud that we should have painted the door while it was off but it was too cold and rainy outside, and now I know how easy it is to remove the door.
It never fails. Four days later, I noticed a Christmas decoration we missed packing. It will just have to stay where it is until next Christmas. Maybe no one will notice.
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