Door Number One

Door Number One

By Allison Adams 03-04-12 / Submitted to The Greeneville Sun 03-04-12

At the start of the New Year I vowed to get rid of clutter and take care of some things on the “Honey Do” list.

In this house my hubby is a hard-working, traveling man – and I am Honey.

My Honey Doing is well intentioned.

I start off following the list closely – replace air filters, repair window screen, etc. – but it doesn’t take long before I start to venture off in other directions.

My husband says I am easily distracted.

Anyway – what usually happens is I branch out a bit and end up painting something.

(It’s a sickness.)

Many, many, many times that something I paint is the front door.

Our front door has been white, black-green, eggplant, teal, and burgundy – for starters.

Several years ago I had a dream that the Lord told me to paint my front door gold.

I am not making this up.

The very next day I told my hubby about The Dream, then I marched right over to the paint store and picked out the perfect color: “Imperial Yellow”.

It wasn’t exactly the gold color that the Lord mentioned in The Dream, but I think He’d have suggested “Imperial Yellow” if He’d seen the paint swatch.

By the time my hubby came home from work that evening we had a brand new, sunny, front door.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Its very bright.”

“It’ll grow on you.”

“I doubt it.”

To tell the truth, it never really grew on me.

I gave it a couple of years before I eventually painted it a pale gray-green: “Water Moss”.

It’s a much better match with my seasonal front door decor.

We almost never use our front door: Its really just there to give purpose to the doorbell.

The door through which we enter and exit 99% of the time is our back door – the door that leads from our kitchen to our garage.

Beneath fingerprints, kick marks, and the normal wear and tear that comes with being pushed and pulled, over and over, day in and day out – it was painted flat builder’s white.

It was a very sad door, and I was a Honey doing a boring chore in the general vicinity … so I decided to branch out and give that door a happy face-lift.

In no time I was armed with a quart of semi-gloss and a sash brush.

And because I wanted happiness whether we were going in through, or out of that sad door, I went out on a limb and painted both sides.

I really can’t believe he didn’t see it coming.

“Notice anything different?” I asked as he came through the door that evening.

“Ummm. Does your hair look nice?”

“No.”

“Happy anniversary?”

“No. I was replacing some weather stripping and suddenly I painted the back door.”

“Well, you sure did. I see that now.”

“Are you new here?”

“Its very blue.”

“I know! Don’t you love it? It’s really blue-black. I knew it was the perfect paint the minute I saw the name of the color – ‘Blue Note’. You know how I love music!”

“Is that supposed to make sense?”

“It was a sign.”

“Of course it was.”

“Honestly, its like you don’t even know me.”

“I’m trying to take it all in.”

“Now its a happy door!”

“Why did you paint both sides?”

“Happiness a comin’ and a goin’!”

“Ahhhhh. I see.”

“I was only thinking of you. You come and go through that door all the time, and I wanted it to evoke good karma.”

“Thank you. Its very nice.”

“Well, it’ll grow on you. Besides, you know what they say.”

“No, I don’t. What do they say?”

“Happy Door – Happy Life.”

“I thought it was ‘Happy Wife – Happy Life’.”

“Same thing.”