Heart of the home

It has been said that I only have a kitchen because it came with the house.  This is not true; I needed somewhere to do the washing and keep the beer.  It is true, however, that I only have a cooker because there was a gap between the cupboards and, being of a kindly disposition, I couldn't bear the mystified horror of my friends when I said I was going to put an armchair there.

  According to the leaflet that came with it, the lid lifts up if you want to use the hob.  Obviously I exaggerate.  I've used the hob on at least four occasions over the last six years, mainly to boil water for rice or noodles, but last year I actually made two pots of jam!

  {The normal-sized mug is there to give you a sense of scale.}

I tend to use the kitchen more as a morning room than anything else.  {Contrary to appearances, I am well in touch with my inner Miss Austen!}  My kitchen table is usually full of some creative project, the sink is full of dirty mugs, and the work surfaces are full of objects that inspire me or bring back happy memories.  Next to the microwave I currently have two pretty {but sadly empty} cake boxes, a margarine tub full of self-assembly dolls' house furniture awaiting sale on Ebay, a half-finished mosaic and my old door knocker.  The chopping board is somewhere upstairs, where I was using it as a drawing board.

My beloved was therefore somewhat puzzled when I showed him my latest charity shop bargain.  "Very nice," he agreed, "but what do you want that for?  You never cook!"

"Isn't it obvious?" I replied.  "It's in case I forget where I am!"

The old gray mare

3/6/2014   13:39:21

"The old gray mare, she ain't what she used to be..."  That song was another favourite remark of mygrandmother's, but I doubt she knew this version ... or maybe she did! However, the first part of the song is a very appropriate description of me and my household goods over the last couple of months.  {Although I didn't fall down a well; it was only down the stairs.}

It all started in a caravan in Wales {as much often does}.  The bedroom was rather cramped and, as I made the bed on the first morning, I felt my back twinge.  It wasn't that bad though, and it was a sunny day, so we set off for Beddgelert as planned.

 Picture © Copyright Jeff Buck and licensed for reuse under this CreativeCommons Licence 

Perhaps it was unwise to attempt the walk to 'Gelert's grave' but it was only a few hundred yards and I've wanted to see it for ages - and it was quite pretty.  What wasn't at all pretty was me, when my back suddenly  went into spasm and I couldn't move.  At all.

I had to just stand there trying to look casual for about 15 minutes while puzzled tourists sauntered past, before shuffling half a mile back to the car.

 Picture © Copyright Jeff Buck and licensed for reuse under this CreativeCommons Licence

 

It then took a further 15 minutes to actually lower myself into it, making repeated attempts whilst hanging on to the door and giggling hysterically, under the amused gaze of customers in the adjacent pub garden.  {My beloved couldn't get out to help me, as he'd had to pull up next to the wall in order to give me enough space to open the door.}  If this is getting older, I don't care for it.

But I'm not the only one who ain't what she used to be; a couple of weeks later my aged vacuum cleaner gave a little grunt and died.  I suppose I had been expecting rather a lot from her; she only cost me £20 at the boot fair four years ago and I was asking her to clear up all the mess after my new bathroom was fitted.  A week after that my ten year old printer decided to follow suit - no lights on, no-one at home.  {I bought a new printer immediately, but still don't have a vacuum cleaner.}

You remember that loud noise you heard one morning about a month ago?  That was me, falling downstairs.  To be more accurate, it was me screaming obscenities after I slipped down the bottom two stairs and my toes crumpled underneath me.  I spent the next hour in agony with my left foot in a bowl of iced water, and the next week hobbling around with a walking stick.  At least my back didn't go again.  Unfortunately, one of my fillings fell out, and I've just had to spend £174 {no, not a typo!} at the dentist.  I don't think I'll be buying a new vacuum cleaner any time soon.