Susan's front storm door snapped two of its hinges months ago. Months and months ago, like maybe almost a year ago. It deteriorated to the point where it didn't close properly, or at all unless you put in the extra effort. Then it developed a loud metal rubbing against metal creak that could have been used in a horror movie as the sound of a casket opening. It was pretty bad.

Last month during the first visit by Susan's landscapers, the garden gate got busted when the big standing mower ran into it. Prior to that its ability to swing open had been somewhat compromised, but the mower rendered the gate a cripple which had to be carried gently and placed in an open position, or a closed position depending on whether one was entering or exiting. It too was pretty bad.

Last weekend little sister's sleepover company came to Susan's house to annihilate the sliding screen door leading to the deck. Guess which one of these three is now known (only to Susan) as The Destroyer:
If you guessed the littlest one then you would be correct.
When she wasn't using her brute strength to burst through old doors with torn screens and wheels which often didn't sit properly in their tracks, she was pretty charming. So were her sisters.

The quality of Susan's life in her own house was declining fast.

Cousin Greg, most recently of GIANT jenga fame, offered his assistance which Susan immediately accepted. In fact, she may have even initiated the idea that she needed his assistance. Regardless, Cousin Greg is a generous and decent person, as well as her brother in grief, but most importantly he's smart and HANDY with almost everything in the universe. And Susan is needy.

Cousin Greg came out on his day off to repair the gate, repair & re-screen the back door and install a new front door which required two trips to Home Depot before they got the right one. It was a hot day, he departed Susan's house ten hours after he arrived covered in sweat and smelling like armpits.

Oh, and he also fixed Susan's bedroom closet door.

Susan heard her son arrive home from work, walk through a front door that didn't cry out in screetching agony, and declare in a tone denoting impressed surprise Whoa! 
She brought him through the house to survey Cousin Greg's handiwork; he had given them more than fully functioning doors, he had restored their humanity.

1 comment:

Pix Under the Oaks said...

Cousin Greg is a gem!
I am glad Susan enjoyed her darling three little charmers.