Behind Door Number 1

Readers,

While waiting for a 36-inch separating zipper to arrive in the mail for my anorak project, and for my meeting with Steve Pauling to look at the muslin of my shirt draft, I thought it was time to answer the question,

What’s behind that door in the sewing domain?

Can you see it?

Can you see it?

I had actually forgotten it was a door.  Or, more accurately, I saw it was a door, but had long ago stopped thinking that somebody had taken the trouble to hang a door because there must be a space behind it.

Wow. Space.

Right next to the sewing domain.

And now that I’m gearing up to actually design my sewing space rather than just rearrange bits of it, it was time to see whether there was another entire room behind that door.

Door Number 1

Door Number 1

If there was useable space, I could include it in my planning. And if there was nothing behind the door…but why would somebody install a door to nowhere?

I was curious about what lay on the other side, but apprehensive, too. So I asked Jack to join me in this small test on my hero’s journey. He agreed, reluctantly.  What a good sport.

He pulled off the packing tape he’d put up 21 years ago when we bought the house.

I donned my hazmat suit: kitchen apron, thick rubber gloves, and dust mask.

In my hazmat suit: apron, dust mask, rubber gloves.

In my hazmat suit: apron, dust mask, rubber gloves.

I gingerly cracked open the door to reveal…

Another door!

This whitewashed one must have dated from 1940, when the house was built.

Did this lead to a root cellar? (What is a root cellar?)

Jack handed me a flashlight. I shone it through an inch-wide gap near the floor.  I had to satisfy my curiosity.

Preparing to peer.

Preparing to peer.

I opened the door about a foot and saw:

  • a dog dish.
  • pink fiberglass insulation
  • a bare lightbulb fixture
  • lots of cobwebs. Lots and lots of cobwebs.

The space was maybe 6 feet square. It was dark and creepy. We closed the doors, taped the outer door shut, and hung my bulletin board again.

It’s ever so slightly tempting to consider turning that spider hole into useful space.  On the other hand, we’ve gotten along fine without it for 21 years. And for a lot less cost and effort I could reclaim some other 6-foot-square space in the sewing domain. Yes.

Not King Tut's tomb by a long shot.

King Tut’s tomb it ain’t.

Lucky thing there wasn’t another entire room behind those doors.

I would be really ticked off.

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3 thoughts on “Behind Door Number 1

  1. I am so proud of you for actually looking and contemplating the possibilities! So, let the spiders have it… they must be big spiders if someone had left a DOG DISH for them! Eek!

  2. Weeeeeel, maybe you would’t be disapointed to find another room if there had been King Tut’s treasure in there too! 😀 Bravo to you on your hero’s journey!

  3. Love that you finally peeked! I have to say I was soooo curious about that door and couldn’t imagine having lived there without knowing. But it seems you managed to thrive despite the not knowing. 🙂

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