Plus ça change, plus c'est une chose différente

All happening today chez Arell with a new front door installed.  The old one was metal framed and freezing cold in the wintertime.  Clearly they had never heard of thermal bridges in the 1970s, or perhaps they had and no-one cared.  Mopping loads of condensation off the inside each morning was probably just what one did, when Crittal windows were as common as double glazing wasn't, and people like me weren't marching around with expensive thermal cameras.  Now though, I have a warm front door.  The glazing was as close to Glasgow School of Art as I could reasonably get.

The interesting thing about this kind of work is that you get to see just how slapdash and janky the construction of your house really is.

The cleaning fluid they used at the end of the job smelled like industrial strength nail varnish mixed with petrol and it cut right through my anti-headache meds, to the point that I ended up taking something.  I flung more windows open, battered away for another couple of hours at work, and then went out on my bike for a bit.