Three-quarters of this household’s members have been down and out with some variety of germ over the past week, so I’ve had no will/time/energy to shoot any photos/brush my hair/change out of my bathrobe. Only the man of the house has escaped unscathed (so far).
Plus, the sun hasn’t shone in what feels like a month, and that has resulted in a grumpy, pale, and unmotivated person (me).
But today is Thursday – time for Norm’s Thursday Doors – and I’m happy to share a couple of shots made last weekend, when the family visited our local arts centre.
On the way out of the gallery we wandered around the building, exploring. There are studios for pottery, dance and fabric arts, plus the gallery and gift shop. In our travels we came upon this odd exterior door, located on the interior of the building. Directly in front of the door is an open area with amphitheatre-style seating and to the right is a large floor-to-ceiling street-facing window. Because of the door’s height off the ground, right away I was reminded of the dreaded mother-in-law door… but after doing a little research I suspect that it was unlikely any mothers-in-law had been utilizing this door when it had actually been in use.
In 1922 the building had been constructed of limestone and yellow brick as the Public Utilities Commission, and served as such until the 80s. In 1990 half of the building was renovated as a seniors’ recreation centre, and in 2001 the rest of the building was converted into the Centre for the Arts, at which point I’m guessing the exterior door probably ended up enclosed in the new portion of the structure. One of my earlier Thursday Doors posts included a photo of an exterior section of the old hydro building:
The floating door, number 24, didn’t seem to budge (the kids tried), nor did anyone answer the sound of the door-knocker (they tried that, too, several times). In fact, one of my children turned the doorknob and pulled it clean out of its socket, at which point I stopped taking photos and decided maybe it was time to leave before we got kicked out for making mischief.
Let’s hope, for everyone’s sake, for the coming days to bring the return of the sun, the eradication of our germs, the replacement of my bathrobe to its hook, and the frequent depression of my camera’s shutter button.
Thanks, as always, for visiting.