Crazy as a Loom

Sunday, January 17, 2010

A new door.

Sounds like a deep, meaningful title, right?

Nah, I just got a new door. Really.
From Crazy as a Loom

Once apon a time, who knows when, someone who lived in this house decided that they needed a door here to go outside. So they cut a hole in the wall, and they used the door they had, which was, of course, an interior door.
So it was cold, and it could only be locked or unlocked from the inside.
I have had this new door since before Christmas, but it has just been too cold to have it put in.
Yesterday it was warmer, comparatively speaking, so it was time.
Isn't it nice???
My goal is eventually to have an old fashioned porch across the back of this house, and then you can walk right out this door, and be on the porch.
A porch with a glider, and rocking chairs, a place to sit and watch fireflies from.

So after the door was installed, the kitchen was a disaster. Sawdust, a little plaster from the lathe and plaster, and general disarray. So today, I cleaned. That was the only goal I had. Just to have the kitchen look good again.

From Crazy as a Loom

Whaddya think??? Did I do OK?

The whole house could use a cleaning. It gets really messy with so many looms and so much fabric. But that sounds crazy, even to me. Overwhelming.
One room at a time, know what I mean?
From Crazy as a Loom

I was going to travel to Saratoga, about 20 minutes away, and go to Barnes and Noble. On a spree. You know the kind.
But I didn't.
What do I need, really???? But you know what, if I had gone, I would have spent MONEY. Probably more than I intended. Those places are like that. So many wonderful books and magazines and other little trivia, you get that wallet out, and you fork it over even when you shouldn't. So I didn't. I am quite proud of myself. Every once in a while, I do that, just impress the hell out of myself.
Anyway, I was thinking about my Dad, today. My husband had made a reference to the "Lowe's story", and that got me to remembering. We laughed a bit about it, so I thought maybe I would share it with you.
You had to know my father. He was a character, and I am not joking here. He could be a whole book, all by himself.
He had decided that he was going to buy my mother a new dryer. So we took off for Glens Falls, 'the big city', about an hour from where we lived at the time. He came to my work, at the prison, and picked me up, because he had a pickup truck. I left my car in the parking lot.
It was raining sideways that day.
My father had on his usual. A baseball cap. A black trench coat. Some horrible burgundy, knit pants, black shoes, and his signature "stockings". He had decided long ago that socks cut off the circulation in his legs. So, much to our dismay, he went to Walmart, and bought some white knee highs, yup, you got it, the kind nurses wear. He then cut the elastic off the tops of them, so when he put them on, they rolled down around his ankles. They were quite attractive.
So, here we are, in Lowe's, just the two of us. There was something out in the garden section that I wanted to look at, so we started there.
All of a sudden, my father says, "I gotta go."
Now, a visual right here would be perfect, but since I can't give you that, imagine this. A skinny old man, with coke bottle glasses, stark white hair sticking out from under a baseball cap, a black trench coat, burgundy knit pants, black shoes with white panty hose down around his that picture??? he puts his knees together, clenches his fists in front of him, and does something like the watusi.......down.....up......down....up....with a twist. "I gotta go."
OK, OK.................go straight down to the end, and take a right.......about half way down, you will see the restrooms.
He heads off.
I continue, oblivious, looking at whatever I am looking at.
Suddenly, he is at my shoulder again.
"I gotta go."
"DAD, get to the restroom....that way.....go, go, go."
I watch him as he disappears from view.
Bullet dodged, I think.

A few minutes later, I look towards the place where I last saw him, just as he comes back around the corner.
In horror, I watch, as he makes his way to me, bending over every now and then, wiping something up from the floor, with his hankerchief.
My eyes must have been about to pop from my head...........I stood completely still. He got closer and closer. And then I realized.
He didn't have any trousers on.
NOW, it was the black trenchcoat, the black shoes, the white balled up panty hose, MINUS the burgundy pants.
OH, GOD. I suddenly was really fond of those knit burgundy pants.
Where are you pants??????"
"Threw 'em in the garbage, underwear, too, in the mens' room."
My arm under his, on a dead run for the door, can you see it????
Out into the rain, to the truck.
"Stay here, I will get the dryer, just wait here for me."
There has never been a dryer purchased that fast, anywhere, ever.
And we were on the road.
Halfway up the road, the cover over the dryer started to blow off, so I stopped to fix it. Horns were honking, and then I realized, my Dad was on the other side, trying to help me, trench coat blowing in the breeze."

Can I just tell you that I was so distracted that I drove right by the prison, and left my car right there, had to go fetch it later.

But the very best part is, that when we pulled into my yard, and my DH came out, expecting to help with the dryer, and my father jumped out without his pants, looking like a flasher for sure, my husband stood there speechless.
My father just said, very matter of factly, "Hey.............., what's up, Bill?"

Geesh, I really do miss my Dad.


Anonymous said...

Hilary, As a chain reader i don't buy many books but i sure read a ton of them each yr. I go to Barnes & Nobles with a pen and piece of paper. i write down titles and authors and use my library acct. to request books and then Crandall library lets me know when they are there just waiting for me to come get them. Yummm

Benita said...

Man-o-man! I laughed so hard!! Thank you for the story.

And, yes, you kitchen looks lovely! Isn't it nice to have one room clean? Seems that's all I get - one room at a time. :)

LA said...

What a wonderful story about your Dad. He sounds like quite a character! The door looks nice, too.

KarenInTheWoods said...

You have me rolling on the floor, crying my eyes out, clutching my stomach and thumping my fists on the floor in helpless weakness of gales of laughter!!!!!!!!

I only fear I have those days to come with MY father~! Oh gosh, how will I keep my sanity?

Hilary said...

Oh my! You weren't kidding when you said that your Dad was a character. He didn't mind one bit that his trench coat+ was flapping in the wind, did he? Too funny!

Your kitchen is beautiful.. warm and inviting. The door is a beauty too. I suspect you worked too hard in that kitchen though... go rest!

weaverpat said...

You did a wonderful job on the kitchen- nice and clean and organized. The new door looks great!

Hahahaha!!! The Father story was just too funny! My Mother gets to laughing in stores and pees herself. Your Dad sure beats that!
Thanks for sharing such a hilarious memory (even though at the time you probably wished you could disappear through a hole in the floor!).

Gail said...

The kitchen looks great! Good job, now can you give me any suggestions for keeping my dining room table from being a catch all?

Wonderful story about your dad...funny.

Sharon said...

Ah Hilary, a great story, told by a loving daughter. Thanks!!!

kestrel said...

I would be pleased with a new door too if the old one could only be opened from the inside. Your kitchen looks oh so cozy and i love the way your pictures are displayed. Does your stove always look so clean and white cos mine is the exact opposite

ethelmaepotter! said...

Your kitchen is so inviting, so warm and cozy. I adore the old-fashioned wallpaper, the small mantel and sconce, the old white stove, and the pot holders on the rack.
And your father...oh my goodness, what a unique, funny man he must have been!


I just laughed my ass off! that was the best story, unfortunately or fortunately this is my future cause I can see my husband doing something like that.

Nancy said...

LOL! Oh my, I'm wiping my eyes! Your father sounds absolutely wonderful. A true character and I love characters.

Nice door, and you did great on the kitchen. Is this your studio or house? (I can imagine the heat escaping that door!)

Country Girl said...

Oh, my good Lord. Seriously! Oh. My. God.
This is hilarious.
I'm sorry you miss him. And your kitchen does look quite clean. Wish I could say the same of mine.

Jayme Goffin, The Coop Keeper said...

That is HILARIOUS! So so funny Hilary. I absolutely love your kitchen!

Unknown said...

Too funny! Thank goodness for good memories! I love your kitchen, it's so cozy, I could hang out there all day. I love your stove, what is it? Did it come with the house?

Be well! ~Andrea~

Unknown said...

LOL! That is a funny story! Your kitchen looks great! Nice and cozy :)

Donna S. said...

In reference to above comment....I only dread those days for me!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Unknown said...

LOVE the story about your Dad. My sister and I laughed and laughed over that one. Our fond, funny memories of our "character" of a Dad make us remember him and break into laughter at such random times. Thanks for sharing!

nck0628 said...

OMG..needed this laugh this morn! I love your dad! Beautiful home, Hilary...but of course it would be with you at the helm. Love this blog..giant hugs.

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