Gutted

The kitchen is gutted and looks currently not that different to an African one, I think. Amazing what we achieve with paint and tiles to make a place look clean and new. The floor tiles are now down and according to HoF can never be replaced. Just the sort of statement to send me into a flat spin about whether we've chosen the Right Ones. I think our problem is that we don't want to be The Same but are not brave enough to be Different. How I would like to be daring and artistic and do something outstanding yet beautiful. In the end, I fear we have chosen Safe. Next hurdle is choosing worktop and tiles. We've learned that most of the expense seems to go on the unseen things, like the right adhesive.
I'm also gutted because in order to do two sessions of church volunteer work, manning a stand depicting an aspect of Easter, in a church, with others, to accompanied school children, I am supposed to get a CRB check. Can't quite work out why it bothers me. I think it's to do with an attitude that says we have to prove our innocence, lack of trust, state interference. Oh and lots more. Are we rearing a generation of children taught to fear adults? Is there a happy land anywhere this side of heaven where you don't need a police state to keep people in order?