A Door Jam

Moving has its challenges. Although we are past the first week of March, it snowed last night. It was just a dusting, but it was enough that we had had to shovel the driveway first thing this morning. The temperature was hovering about zero Celsius. It was cool, but the sun was struggling through a thin layer of cloud. There was a misty dampness in the air.

I had been packing up items and doing some much needed cleaning in the Coach House, which is my office and a sometimes pub. I was carrying a vacuum cleaner back to the house, when one of the rear belt loops on my jeans became entangled with a hook that supports one end of a long spring on the outer screen door.

Try as I might, I could not manage to free myself. Awkwardly I put down the items I had been carrying. Having both hands free, I tried some more to get loose. Accomplishing that at the best of times would have been awkward, since I could not see what I was attempting to do. I think my efforts only secured myself more firmly.

I called out to John who, I assumed, was working away at boxes in his office in the former drive shed not too far away. My voice fell on deaf ears. Call as I might I could not be heard. I wondered if the women in the house struggling to clean around the moving debris would hear. They did not. All windows were blind to my suffering. Or perhaps they were watching my dilemma with supressed giggles.

There was only one thing to do - attempt to take off my pants. Now, with the hook capturing me at waist level, this was going to be a challenge. But then, I am always up to a challenge.

I did not have a watch on but I knew a stranger was coming soon to look at some crystal glassware that we were hoping to be rid of. So my endeavour had to be fast and discrete. One leg out, and then I started to teeter. The top of the other pant leg was caught far too high up and the range of movement was far too restricted.

Once my balance had returned, I was now able to turn a little further and see what the issue was. Yes, the loop was firmly encased in a rusty hook. There was only the tiniest of space between it and the wooden door frame. But eyes were the solution. I could now see what had to be done. With some effort I was able to free myself, put my one leg back into the trousers and whistle off nonchalantly to the house. The stranger’s car could be heard mounting the drive.