I’m sometimes amazed as I travel to see buildings that look as if they are too tired to stand, and might, in another country, have been condemned.
And, I always wonder: what must it be like living with uneven floors, ill-fitting windows and odd angles everywhere? These four, in York, England, reminded me of the nursery rhyme…
There was a crooked man and he went a crooked mile,
He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile;
He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse,
And they all liv’d together in a little crooked house.
