The little things

When last you met our twig door pulls, I was flipping out over various little setbacks, all set up in a row to hit me like rail cars braking quickly.

Today, armed with a new drill, proper bolts and a manual screwdriver, I managed to get two of them actually installed. (I'm delaying the ones in the den until I can get the doors open; right now they're blocked by stacks of flooring.)

Robert's happy with them -- he thinks they look like bronzed coral, and I'm so happy he's happy that I'm not going to argue strongly for twigs. And I'm happy with the color, which is close enough to the various versions of oil-rubbed bronze that dot the place.

Including the doorbell -- which our audio-video consultant, Paul, twisted and rang in earnest for the first time today.

He was delighted with it, which I found ironic: The guy advising us on the highest-tech parts of the house having fun with a manual bell.

I think it is the little things that count.