A Labor Day, It Is

On what can pretty much be described as a whim, yesterday Mark and I ripped out the clunky, mildew-loving glass shower doors in our main bathroom. While the tear-down process was therapeutic (visions of the end of perpetually bruised shins kept me going), this morning we woke up and realized that we probably ought to have a Part II to our plan. Mark thought that a plastic tension rod as the permanent solution was tacky, so we opted for a metal rod that involved mounting hardware and a power drill. We hadn't measured the shower, so we estimated the length that the rod ought to be; turns out we were about a foot and a half off. Fortunately, we'd overestimated instead of underestimated. A hacksaw seemed to do the trick, and now I'm just waiting for the hardware to be mounted.

"How's the mounting going?" I asked Mark a few minutes ago, trying to sound cheery and casual, as though I didn't expect him to say, "I'm not sure."

"I'm not sure," was his response. Followed by, "Do we have a yardstick?"

We agreed that we did at one point have a yardstick.

We also are about to agree to make the basement bathroom our main bathroom.