Over two years ago we had the front door repainted, the final act of our own kitchen sink drama.
In preparation for this, I removed the door furniture, including the ‘22’.
Now I should really get round to putting those numbers back up.
I could say it’s because they filled in the holes, so I have to drill new ones.
At least then the numbers won't fall off every time the door slammed with the wind, which would be good.
Or there’s the fact that something went wrong with the paint and it blistered in the summer of 2018. And 2019. And 2020.
So the door needs repainting. Which I could do, I suppose, I’ve got the stuff.
I’d also have to say the brass numbers look a bit too traditional for the new paint colour.
Then again, I still like our old letter plate and knocker, so maybe we should stay traditional.
And thinking about it, not having numbers on the door hasn’t caused any problems. Between 20 and 24, everyone seems to be able to work it out.
Maybe there’s even a cachet in being numberless. The Queen doesn’t live at No.1, Pall Mall, after all.
Or I could tell the truth. I can always think of something better to do.
And, of course, as a brand strategist I believe in focusing single-mindedly on the job to be done.
Which means always having a much, much longer list of jobs not to be done.
Plus I haven’t been home much this year.
Oh no, that doesn’t work.
This is actually a bit embarrassing.