Doors

I recently engaged our favorite painter to refresh the paint on our doors.  Now, bear in mind, I live in a cute 2,500 sq. foot cape, so you would think, big deal.


There is the front door, the back door (we're up to 2 here - keep count), the side door, the side door onto the breezeway, the breezeway door that Tiger, the wonder cat can manage to open, then the breezeway door to the garage, and the garage's own back door.  (I'll skip the fancy door between the living room and the breezeway).


They all take weather and get wear and tear.  It was time for a repaint.


So I called our favorite painter, and things went right down the drain.


When I was growing up, there was a paint color called  "white".


Slap it on the dinghy, and all was well.


Then I got married - there was bone white, atrium white, brilliant white, OW-6 (an apparently secret white).


It is no wonder I drink.