Thursday, 8 December 2011

Eccentric

The new utility room can be entered through any of three doors - one from the hall (yes, that's my washer and dryer, parked in the hall at present):



One from the garden (this door should be glazed and finished today):


and one from the kitchen.


The kitchen door itself is a battered but charming little affair, unless you're tall, in which case it becomes a head injury hazard.


It would be better if it fitted its opening.



Much chopped and changed over the years, it has to be replaced with another that will close properly, that reaches the floor, that opens the other way, that has clear glazing, that will take a cat flap, that has hinges that don't require packing with scraps of wood to sit flush.

I feel somewhat guilty about saying goodbye to this little old door, but am comforted by knowing that the sloping frame, without a right angle or a straight line to its name, will remain to remind me of how old this house really is.


The new door will match my favourite - the small narrow door that leads from the kitchen into the garden, that even I must stoop to use, and that will ensure that I never allow myself to become so wide that I can't get through it.



A weight-watcher's door.

14 comments:

Danielle P. said...

I love your doors, they have such personality!

Lucille said...

It's a pity your name isn't Diana. Then you could have been Diana Dors.

Arthur Ransome said...

I love that old kitchen door. Will you do something with it once it's off its hinges? At least save that sweet old latch!

the veg artist said...

When you own a very old house you really start to appreciate how much people have grown in the last few hundred years. Upwards and outwards!!

Toffeeapple said...

Delightful doors but one that fits should keep you a little warmer. I like the idea of a weight-watcher's door.

frayedattheedge said...

I love Lucille's comment - I wish I had thought of it!!

Susan said...

I love this house. I think I'm jealous.
It's the truth ;-) xoxo les Gang

Noelle said...

You have me laughing yet again Rachel! Living as we do on this tiny island, our house was built in 68 and according to ex-RAF flyboy, if any licensed worker actually had any part in building this house, he must certainly have found his license in a Cracker Jack box! Nothing fits, nothing matches...It's (almost) comforting to know we are not the only ones!
Just a hint: that door is probably VERY old, how about turning it into a work table? Think of the countless stories it could tell if only it could speak...
And perhaps a sign above the doors for height warnings? -Big smile!-

Alicia said...

I love this post but doesn't it seem to be missing something? Nary a scrap of tail nor fur? Hmmm... the team must be hibernating!

Gwen Buchanan said...

oh a wonderful tour of your doors..I love doors and all the things about them and going through them.. so people were much smaller back a ways???,.. I noticed this in a Martello Tower in nearby Saint John.. almost a foot shorter they must have been.

flwrjane said...

"I'll take the door" called a voice from far away Virginia.

xo J.

Preseli Mags said...

Battered but charming - sounds like my home! I can see daylight round the edges of my front door too.

Frances said...

Lucille made me laugh...brilliant!

elizabethm said...

I am delighted to see from your next post that you are keeping the door! And sympathise big time about doors. Ours are the same, i.e. they don't fit.

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