Mirror footprint

It’s the rage, in some circles today, to boast of reducing one’s carbon footprint.  I have very little place to go with this as I have commuted by foot and public transit my entire school and working life, live with an automobile-owner who has to be sure to take the car out for a spin monthly because otherwise it would fall into wrack and ruin, and, as admitted here last week, have become obsessed with shopping local.

So, no lifestyle change eminent there.

On the other hand, our new house carries a feature that feels a bit like over-carbonating, although its direct effect on the physical environment ain’t so much.  This house is simply flooded with mirrors. We didn’t import a ingle one except the small handheld one I inherited from my mother and which has lived in a box under the stairs (here, there, whichever house is home at the time) for the past 35+ years.

No, this house has mirrors built into surfaces I would never dream of turning into reflectors:  both sides of the hallway door; both doors on the closet in the guest room, of course in every bathroom, the closet door in our bedroom.  With the exception of this last one, none are positioned so as to catch a window’s daylight so we aren’t talking about amplifying lumens here.  It’s all about self reflection, something I do a whole lot better psychically and intellectually than a la Narcissus.  

This state of possibility has done nothing to improve either of our sartorial presentations and has led to some scary non-encounters when one is home alone (especially the hallway door, where both sides of the door, and thus the full length mirrors, are broken into small panes, giving one a fractured version of the devil who didn’t comb her hair yet this morning).

Ripping them all out seems a bit over the top as they all are substantial parts of otherwise unoffending doors and walls (yes, some are actually built into the wall rather than hung on it).  Presumably, we grow accustomed.  Heck, it’s been only 3/4 of a year….

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