One of the good things about working at home during the thick of the pandemic lockdowns was the similarly timed lack of strangers knocking on one’s door, selling something or another.
More than usual, even, I didn’t want to see them.
And, happily, for at least a severe year, they didn’t want to see me.
Well, seeing is OK. The stand-up desk from which I work — beautifully built into a gorgeous gleaming white bookshelf, with drawers and electrical outlets and storage galore, and a fold-out laptop shelf, and one for photos and tchotchkes above this screen, by my brilliant architect wife — is inches away from the cottage’s front door.
Which is made entirely of glass, the better to let the south-facing-view light in.
A quick turn to the left and I could see the Amazon essential workers, and the UPS man, and Mr. Butler, the postman, delivering stuff to the teak garden…
How solar energy firms lose clients with their hard sell – Pasadena Star News
