Windows

Oh, hello, it's nice to finely meet you.

You wouldn't know this but I have been, not so patiently, waiting for you to turn up.

Yes, I know it takes time to source your various parts, like the hinges, handles, and locks, from manufacturers located 'who knows where'. And yes, I also know that assembling all those parts in factories plagued by COVID outbreaks means that any original delivery estimates were based on a little hope, a lot of prayers, and not reality.

But still...

I'm not ashamed to admit that I expected you sooner and grew impatient and increasingly weary as the timelines shifted. Without you in place, progress stalled. Walls couldn't be plastered and painted, flooring couldn't be installed, and the energetic hum of contractors on site, grew quieter and quieter as the weeks rolled on.

Before you arrived, sheets of insulation and a material akin to a large black bin bag were shielding the internal spaces from the elements and prying eyes. As impressive a shield as this was, it made the site look a little homemade, which is cute, but not state you want to stay in too long. Now, with you in place, our black brick triangle box on a wedge of London land looks like shelter. It looks safe and protected.

There's still a long, long, looong, way to go (we're still waiting on our front door, a set of large sliding doors, and kitchen skylights), but your arrival has given me hope that perhaps that last 'long' only has three o's, and not 5.

I hope.