Disquisition on Renovations – Or how two idiots fixed a house. Lock installation.

July 9, 2007 - Monday

The locks on our entry doors were horribly inadequate. They're original to the house and apparently no one broke into homes in the 1920's because this thing was pitiful. I've seen stronger locks on little girls' diaries.

I purchase my deadbolt kit (at Home Depot) and my "shoppers" have told me it's the simplest to install. Piece of cake. All I have to do is unscrew the old locks, pop this bad boy in and presto, instant security. I have no doubt that I can do this as the label says "Simple 3 step process". I've attended an institution of higher learning. I can handle 3 steps.
These locks took 2 days, 4 pots of coffee, 2 Klonopin and a Red Stripe to install.

The three step process should be 4 steps and read:
1. Find a hammer.
2. Hold hammer firmly in both hands.
3. Beat yourself in the head with hammer until you lose consciousness.
4. Call a locksmith.

To begin with I install the lock backwards with the screws on the outside of the door where any 13 year old hoodlum with a pocket knife can easily access what I'll now refer to as my "palatial estate". I realize my mistake and reinstall in what I think is a correct manner only to find that once installed the key won't turn the lock meaning, (and I know this now) that I've not aligned the inside properly. I'll cut to the chase. I finally take the deadbolt off and use the lock system from another door in the house and later installed the deadbolt on that door where it worked like a charm.

Now I'm worried that I still need more protection on this outside door but I'm feeling good about life because I happen to have one of those nifty locks they have on hotel room doors left over from another house. The type of lock that would let you get the door open but this little gadget would catch and you couldn't open the door any further. Sort of like an old slide bolt but fancier.

After an hour of trying to drill through the toughest wood ever grown by the hand of God, I get this installed. I yell for my mother and daughter to come to see my handy work and sing my praises. I feel proud. I feel strong. I am woman. My mother walks to the door, pulls the newly installed handle and the door won't budge. It won't wiggle. I'm talking it's frozen in place.

I have installed both sides of the lock base to the door frame. We are locked in the house.

I didn't cry. I didn't even curse. I was numb. My mind was racing with a thousand thoughts of how one woman with instructions in three languages and brand new shiny tools could have failed so miserably. I just wanted to protect the people I love and I had let them down. Dejected but still humming songs from Les Miserables I disassembled everything and begin again. Yeah that's right I've got a tool belt and have seen Les Miz. Pretty impressive,uh?

I'm rethinking this whole lock system and am giving great thought to just placing a sign in my yard reading: I have a gun and I don't call 911.