My mum's front door.
My parent's house is a heap I'm utterly embarrassed to take anyone to. Built in 1910, half of it is steadily falling down the hill it was built on, there're huge cracks in two of the walls, it's damp and undecorated and reeks of tobacco. It's in a cracking spot in the old part of town with the biggest garden for miles around, but due to weed a restrictive home insurance policy they've never got it sorted out and generally let the place go.

For my mum's fiftieth birthday, my brothers and I made a new front door for the house. Middle brother designed it, little brother selected timber and machined it, and I built it, finished it and swung it. It's absolutely beautiful, thick, heavy meranti timber, stained dark brown with six glass panels, three-point locking, brass fittings and a closing thud to die for.

This is the only time I will ever be effusive about a door.
( Noeli overtheshoulderboulderholderthingstraplatchboobs, Thu 6 Jan 2011, 20:00, 1 reply, 15 years ago)

you totally had a doorgasm!

( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Thu 6 Jan 2011, 21:41, Reply)