Bigger on the Inside

A word about my new Tardis: old. When I say ‘my new Tardis’ I mean, of course, it’s new to me. It was built in the 1880s, which makes it somewhat older, even, than me. I should add–as did previous owners– that part of it is actually younger than me. I think the additions were made in the fifties. It has that look… Not only is it bigger on the inside than it is on the outside, but it has a certain schizoid timelessness about it.

One of the interesting features (?) is that no two rooms have ceilings of the same height. Likewise, the doorknobs and light switches. Light switches, for example, range in position from nipple high to over my head. [That's a pretty wide range, I hear you thinking. And just so you know, my nipples are NOT down at my waist. hmmph!]

One of my favorite things is the doorbell. The doors in the old part of the house are original, as are their fixtures, including a lovely  old brass doorbell. When you wind it from outside, it sounds like a bicycle bell inside. How cool is that? As long as I’m sitting close by, anyway.

The doorbell from outside

inside view of the doorbell

My least favorite feature is the total absence of anything resembling a closet, cupboard, or any other storage device developed since the Dawn of Time. Wouldn’t you think that sometime during the last 130-odd years it would have occurred to someone that it would be nice to be able to put stuff away?

There is much more to be discovered, but at the moment the majority of it is still blocked by boxes piled high. I know that it used to be a shop, but I have yet to delve into that part of its history. It still looks like a shop, with a long blue awning across the front, and a front door that opens right onto the footpath. Also, the front consists of a large box window — for displaying merchandise, presumably — on either side of the double front door. It would make a perfect little gallery and tea room…

It’s quirky, but quaint…rather like me, I like to think.            MM