It's a (door) Hanging Offence M'Lud

I spent the whole of yesterday afternoon re-hanging my bedroom door for the third time. It's a design fault really – the door is made of reinforced glass and is so heavy that the ridiculously small screws holding the hinges to the frame simply aren't strong enough to take the weight. The first time I attempted to solve this, I went out and bought some longer screws. I thought it would be easy. Then I realized that the idiot builders have put a metal panel in the wall-thingy (I can't remember what the side-frame of a door is called; I know that the top bit is the lintle) and even my hammer drill couldn't get into it. So, I had to continue with the ridiculously small screws. A few weeks later, the door fell off again. On my second attempt, I decided to drill a wider hole and then insert some really fat and (supposedly) tenacious rawlplugs to hold in the screws. I was convinced that this would solve the problem. However, this time two of the screwheads snapped off and the door fell away from its frame again. Hmm.

Right! Undefeated, I drilled out the decapitated screws and squeezed some filler into the holes. Then I gave all the rawlplugs a thick coating of some special glue that I have. This stuff is specifically designed for boat building and is so strong that it will hold wooden planks together, in water, while a 17-stone man sits atop. Bloody strong, see? As an added measure, I then coated the backplate of the hinges with said adhesive, and re-screwed them in. If the bastard door falls off for a fourth time, I shall admit defeat and call in the builders. It's no fun trying to balance such a heavy door whilst trying to heave it into position to meet the holes in the frame – especially when I had inadvertently coated myself in the aforementioned adhesive so I was thereby sticking to the door, to its hinges, and to the step-ladder too. A tricky manoeuvre I can tell you, and not one to be carrying out just as – inevitably – the phone should ring.

Anyway, the door is now Public Enemy Number One and I'm glaring fiercely at it, daring it to move again. It had better not even think about it.

This afternoon I'm off to the Woods for a jolly lunch at Davenport Towers. I suspect I might have a sip or two of alcohol while I'm there but I must be careful as I'm in Court tomorrow morning. And no, I'm not up on a charge of cruelty to doors – I'm on Jury Service. Oh hell.