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Tacitly Yours

I'm not the crazy new neighbor

To many people the warmer weather that hit last week meant it was time to don shorts and sandals, but for me it had a totally different meaning. It meant the time was right to paint my front door.

Since the minute we moved in to our new home I've had my eye on my front door, which up until about a week ago was painted the same color as the trim. I thought the front of the house needed a little something. It needed a little pizzazz, something to make it stand out.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like I wanted to paint it silver with turquoise flowers all over it and maybe a dash of glitter. I just wanted a red door.

Within days of us having moved into the house, my husband and I purchased paint for every room in the house. Exactly how much of that paint has made it onto the walls is a different story, but at least I have put to use the quart of paint we purchased for the front door.

Last Friday, the sun was still shining bright when I got home from work and my husband wasn't home, so I decided it would be a great time to tackle my door project. The first challenge was what to do with the dog while I sat with my front door wide open. There is no way she would think about staying inside with the whole world just one step away. So I put her outside. Through the sliding glass door all I could see as I got to work getting my paint ready was her little black face staring back at me.

I managed to lay down a plastic drop cloth, find my little sponge roller and pour my paint in a roller tray without incident. As I rolled my roller into the paint I had my first twinges of doubt. Several different thoughts ran through my head. Was the color going to look normal? Should me, the amateur painter, paint over a perfectly good professional paint job? Was my roller going to leave funny streaks on the smooth metal door? What was I doing?

To silent the voices I did the only thing I could...I put the roller to the door and painted my first stroke of color. In a snap I was committed to painting the whole door, and I was also shocked at how pink my red color looked. It looked like I was painting my door fuchsia.

At this I suddenly became acutely aware of the traffic in my neighborhood. People were coming home from work, driving by my house and, I'm sure, wondering why their crazy new neighbor was painting her door fuchsia.

I tried to remain calm and pushed forward with my paint job. As far as I could tell there was really nothing I could do but keep going.

With every roller stroke I started feeling a little better and after about five coats of paint my front door was in fine shape. As the paint dried it turned a nice dark red color and I now no longer have to worry about being the crazy neighbor with the bright pink door.

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