Well, here is a story. It’s Laura’s story. In her new flat, occupied for just one week, the kitchen door conspired to lock her into her kitchen, leaving aforementioned fair maiden and her gentle knight trapped within. The door handle mechanism had disintegrated.No screwdrivers, no mobile phones, no means of escape from the first floor window were available, so gentle knight was obliged to employ fairly strong arm (leg?) treatment to said offending door and by means of size 11 foot-poetic licence here as I don’t actually know foot size-kicked door open. There is more to the actual kicking but I will spare the sensibilities of tender listeners.
On Sunday father and mother of damsel in distress helped her to purchase and transport a replacement door to her new flat as her Knight is away on dragon slaying duties. That’s Rob above. Walking through the streets of Cambridge and causing some amusement amongst passers by, including the flippant comment of “I bet you can tell some good knock knock jokes”. Laura didn’t let him carry it all the way home without help, it should be noted.
Back at the flat with the aid of Jean Paul Sartre and E. Annie Proulx to support the door, we nearly managed to fit it. That’s another story but suffice to say, there’s nothing wrong that a handyman with a plane, a chisel, a screwdriver and the skill cant sort out!
And here is the souvenir picture of the old door…