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I installed a set of French doors for my wife that open onto a private courtyard. I decided to spray-paint them right away with a good-quality oil paint. When I finished painting, I called my wife out to the courtyard to admire the near-perfect finish. She smiled with delight, and wanting to thank me, said she’d take care of the nasty job of cleaning my work clothes. She put them in the washer and then into the dryer, without thinking that the dryer vent empties into the courtyard. The still-wet beautiful doors became embedded with lint. We’re now the proud owners of fuzzy French doors!
