institutionalised

It was the strangest feeling, looking at my new kitchen doors. The order is not quite what I had asked for; I was expecting the wooden shutters on the door as well as the window. However, I imagine the request was a little unusual for a kitchen door. The expectation is that I will put huge metal security doors outside and not need the shutters as it is not a bedroom. Aaah well, I'll give it time.

But the strange feeling was not the disappointment of the order being incorrect, after all I had had the chance to check the order - only briefly, but my fault for not taking a copy - and perhaps I didn't understand what I was looking at. The strange feeling was looking through the glass with no bars on my window. When I arrived here I absolutely hated these doors. Ugly. Rusted. Cracked glass. And bars. Bars inside my windows. In fact, for four years I have tolerated these doors only because I was powerless to change them.




Have I become institutionalised within my own home? Last night I slept happily on the couch with no doors to protect me. The night camping was an adventure, coils burning to ward off zanzare and other nasties. Today I felt odd looking through a wonderful expanse of double glazed plain glass. To see my doors shut yet open to the wonderful view brought a strange sensation. I felt oddly vulnerable.


I don't think it will take me long to adjust, and I MIGHT even enjoy keeping these ones clean!

*****

And in the bedroom, what the kitchen ones should have looked like. But I have had a sneaky peek, and I think that the shutters can be added later.




PS: Just as I finished this blog "the boss" called me down to explain to me that I needed to organise the big metal security gates for both doors, and gave me his recommendations for these. I need another solution. I don't want to drill holes in beautiful pieces of stone that have stood as silent doorways for 500 years or so. The thinking cap is back on again.