Open Toed Shoes

We don’t have any doors in our house. None.

A little over a month ago we decided to upgrade the doors. As is often the plan when Michael and I get an idea, we bulldozed right in and decided to replace them all. We’ve been in our house over eight years, they were nasty when we moved in, so it was time, we reasoned.

The door guy said it would be a couple of weeks to get the doors in and they sent someone out to measure.  After the measurement we were so excited that we took all the old doors off.  We were getting ready and if we removed them ourselves it saved some money.

I can’t emphasize enough how many doors we’re talking about here. When we got into bathrooms and closets and that closet off the laundry room where we shove all the crap we hardly ever wear.  Lots of doors.

But we didn’t care.  Armed with a screw driver, we went at it and took them all off, stacked them in the garage and called to donate. It’s kind of cool that our ugly doors will be spiffed up and put in other homes.  I like that about donating things.

Clean slate, no doors, we proudly went to the door guy again and picked out all of our new doors.  Very exciting. Until he smiled and said, “Okay, so those particular doors will arrive to us in about six weeks and then it will probably be another two weeks to install.” That’s eight weeks for those of you already drinking at home.

Eight weeks, doors gone to a good cause, no doors. No doors on the bathrooms, no bedroom doors, none, nothing. Eight weeks is more than a couple.

Initially the thought is, “What a pain in the ass!” But now, like so many things in life, it’s turned into no big deal. Granted our bathrooms are tucked away, so even without the doors there’s some privacy.

Not having doors on the pantry and closets has stirred us to clean up, donate and figure out what we really want because we are looking at it every day, no door.  We are a little more sensitive to what others are doing and how loud we are because, no doors. We are usually pretty good about laying eyes on each other , but I swear we see more of our youngest, the only one left in our house. She seems to be out with us more because again, no door.

Life is funny that way, sometimes something that seems like a pain in the ass can hold a different view. I like that. I’m looking forward to getting our new doors. I think we only have two or three weeks left, but maybe now that I’ve done without, I’ll prop some of those suckers open or at least look behind them more often.

My thoughts from the laundry room. Bathroom Light, Please.

Adapting learning life organization thoughts

11 Comments Leave a comment

  1. So, just for the record, I was not one of those already drinking at home:). And I am applauding you from afar because I don’t know if I could pee with no door on bathroom. Call me a girly girl. It’d be like camping at home . . . maybe you could make s’mores? 🙂

  2. Wow, Tracy—no doors? None whatsoever? AND you have a few more weeks to go? Yowzer!
    This whole “doorless” situation really makes you look at things differently. Glad to hear the new doors are en route. . . .

  3. Tracy,
    You are nuts, and I say that in a good way, with the best of intentions.



    P.S. Would someone PLEASE share a cross-eyed emoji? I SO need one to express my every thought!

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