But… every now and then I have an out of this world day. By means that
transcend my own knowledge, I get something done. Over the years, the
magnitude of ‘something’ has gradually dwindled until finishing a load
of ironing is sufficient cause for celebration.
But today. Well, today will go down in the annals of history. Why?
Because today, I managed to CLEAN the saucepan cupboard. Now that may
seem like a bit of a naff thing to get excited about, but you can have
no idea what kind of a battle that was. There were grease blobs that
had gained citizenship and were establishing their own colonies with
trade centres connecting their infrastructure with saucepan cupboards
all over the world. And of course, as soon as the shelves began to take
on the aspect of something that has a passing relationship with
cleaning fluid, the pots and pans revealed their true state of yuk.
And, as is the way with these things, as soon as pans began to resemble
their original conditions, the cupboard under the sink started to look
particularly embarrassed. As the contents were removed, restacked and
replaced, other cupboards join in, offering safe haven for articles
that, until then had been considered food for the dustbin, vowing
allegiance to all and sundry, claiming with such dedication and fervour
that you waiver, reconsidering whether you may, at some vague time in
the distant future, possibly, if there’s an ‘r’ in the month consider
the possibility of using that container.
After all that, I had to sit down with a strong cuppa. Which of course…
you’re there ahead of me… meant that the teapots and mugs all needed to
be overhauled. By the time the kids came home, I was a quivering mass
of nerves, lurking in the corner of the sofa. Uncharacteristically,
they decided that they would get their own supper. The now sparkling
microwave dinged, and plates of food marched in, supported by two
rather proud looking children. True, they may have left things to cook
for a moment or two more that was usual, but the thought was there, and
it’s amazing what tastes you can cover up with tomato ketchup. Somewhat
calmer and feeling more than a bit touched by the gesture of a t.v.
dinner being brought to me, I felt able to go back into the kitchen.
Big mistake. Until that moment, I had never realised just how many
pots, pans and utensils are needed to prepare a families micro meals.
Ah well, where did I put that scourer?
