There aren't any doors!

Those familiar, may be aware of our fortnightly foray to the Watering Hole known as the North Lakes Hotel.
We started about March 1995 when we moved into J. G. Johnstone's shop.
It appears the dictionary has never heard of "Johnstone" and wants to alter it to Johnson, John Stone, John-stone, etc.
At the start we were in the shop AND doing our "Day-Jobs". Consequently we never met. This was set as our "Board meeting" for any shop-pertinent discussion. It follows, as the night the day, we did not discus for the full 2hrs.
;¬)
But, it equally, follows we DID discus.

When Alice "clocked out" Monday 21:00 5th Dec 2016 we held a VERY gentle Wake on the Wednesday and the ritual continues.
Some time ago I was talking to a new member of the Bar staff who announced:-
"I was only  3 then."
For the last week or few there have been certain areas boarded off that we had to take a more circuitous route to "the Office". Today we managed the directissima.
It's funny what you don't notice:-
We got in, perched, and must have had the 1st pint, if not the second, when Jerra announced "There aren't any doors!"
There used to be a pair of very medieval looking, arched topped studded doors here; we never saw them shut, but there they were.
Tonight there they were -- GONE.
(Or there they weren't. Take your pick.)
Not that they were the only difference, you can't help but notice the freshly skimmed, brand new looking, floor boards.