by First let me say mine is a small, humble dwelling, though of infinite variety. If I further divulge that one source of variety is the incidence of different door designs I may provide a clue concerning my week’s activities, and possibly be drawn into admitting to one of the challenges of advancing age.
Doors various – below stairs (that’s the ground floor, of course, but I like to imagine I have servants and that’s where they live) the internal doors are all of glass panels, the frames of which, though naturally finished, fail to meet any standard of uniformity, although I have endeavoured to standardise the handles (in brass, I fitted the last one just in time to be told that brass had become ‘so last year’). Upstairs, and yes, I promise I will use the proper term ‘door furniture’ from now on, there are four internal doors in four patterns, none of which are glass, and none of which bears even a passing resemblance to its siblings. Siblings???.
Gripping, so far, isn’t it?
Irreproachably, the Memsahib gave notice that conformity needed to be established, so I ordered three doors of identical design to the last one I fitted. On Saturday, after keeping vigil before my tools through the night, I set about preparing Door One, which incidentally is the door to my ‘airy nest’. The Vale of Despond yawned open before me, but undeterred I removed the old door, used it as a pattern, and trimmed its replacement neatly to size. Then I cut recesses for the hinges into the new door…
Yes, I cut them on the wrong side. I swear I studied all the possibilities for an hour before I made the first incision, turned the patient – sorry, the door – over and over in my mind, but I still got it wrong, and I still don’t know why!
It’s a spatial awareness thing, I know that; the condition of being unable to reverse images and angles in the brain – but I never used to suffer from it: where did it come from? Oh, and the door doesn’t fit, in spite of all my careful trimming, but that is down to latch revenge, and a separate issue.
So, in summation: there are those who will persuade you that old age has not affected their abilities, or impaired their mental function. Maybe they are lucky, or maybe they are delivering a brace of testicles, but I do not count myself among their number. I can measure my deterioration in units of door. A task I could achieve comfortably in a couple of hours not many years ago now detains me for one-and-a-half days (two if you count the afternoon I spent sitting here with an ice-pack on my head, muttering incoherently). The thought that two more doors await me before I can claim to have performed my mission fills me with dread. I may need counselling.
Frederick Anderson's Story Blog 
I know the feeling. I used to move with the grace of an antelope – now I am a stumblebum and routinely crash though any and everything. I tell my sons to take my life as a warning as I have “gotten old quick and smart slow”
LikeLiked by 4 people
Yes, that’s a great way of putting it! You don’t see old age coming, do you – one day it just slips up behind you and bites your arse. I have the toothmarks to prove it, but I try to avoid putting them on show too much – pride, I guess.
LikeLike
Wrapping you in love and sending you sparkly energy. I had an order recently and made half of it in the wrong flippin’ colour. I swear I read the instructions several times!! I feel for you… Hugs on a ‘let the job be done soon’ breeze.. xxx
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thank you Jane! Since this post I have also made a sporting attempt at cutting off a finger – the first power tool injury I have had in twenty years. I think someone is trying to tell me something, don’t you? Hugs as ever, of course!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mmmmm, ‘you can’t keep a good man down????’ Fred, you are a stalwart and I know you’ve got this covered and hopefully, you;re not covered in blood! Sending you hugs and much supportive energy. xXx ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jane, and my thoughts to you in return. Nurse! N-U-U-U-R-S-E!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You have my empathy. Getting older does really stink.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Amy. They say it has a plus side, and I’m sure I’ll find it soon!
LikeLiked by 2 people
I am still looking also. So far all I’ve found is that I just no longer care what other people think!
LikeLiked by 3 people
Amy, that’s quite a benefit. Frederick, there’s wisdom of experience that can be passed along to others — the fact that we don’t always have to do everything ourselves lol
LikeLiked by 2 people
I have been working in the garden today for about 5 solid hours, and a lot of it took physical effort. Even after a shower, I am sore & tired, and I will still be both tomorrow, even with a good night’s sleep.
It’s hard getting old, and it seems to come on suddenly. Before I turned 70, I could do almost everything I’d done in my forties. Since then, I am weaker, have far less stamina, and I forget such a lot of things. 😦
LikeLiked by 4 people
I certainly don’t recover as quickly – and yes, I, too, forget things. I hope you are dealing with the heat OK – all we seem to hear about Australia now concerns heat waves and drought, either one of which would be the finish of me!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Winter is almost here Frederick & the weather is very pleasant for working outside. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
😁 What a great post. I will never just look at any door as just a door again . Age is just an illusion . Repeat, repeat , repeat until your body feels the words sink in 😁
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thank you, I’ll try to remember that. Positive thinking, eh? Now where did I leave my zimmer frame?
LikeLike
😁
LikeLiked by 1 person
I feel your pain!
LikeLiked by 4 people
Funny! Reblogging to my readers at sister site Timeless Wisdoms
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you for the reblog!
LikeLike
My pleasure 😌
LikeLike