Tag Archives: can openers

A Retired Couple

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Things that make me happy – Number One – Julia at a tearoom

Julia retired today. She will be back at work on Monday because they are short-staffed, and I suspect she won’t be paid for it. However, with the MENCAP pay rates being what they are, it won’t make a lot of difference.

On Tuesday we will officially be a retired couple and I suspect my life is not going to be as relaxed as it has been over the last few months. There is a lot more housework in my future. I can see it looming now. And a lot more decluttering.

Julia’s feet. Red shoes are almost a modern icon – from Judy Garland to Elvis Costello. 

That’s a link to the story of how he wrote the song. Ten minutes of inspiration. Bowie mentions red shoes too. I must write a poem about them and have my moment rubbing shoulders with greatness.

We had soup for tea tonight. I meant to photograph it, just to get a new photograph to use. All my old soup photos have already been used several times. This is Tomato, Pepper and Lentil Soup. It also had half a strong home-grown onion in it. It was a can of tomatoes, a can of water, two peppers (we have quite a few at the moment) the onion, and some lentils. I always have red lentils about because I always think of them as healthy and you hardly notice them in soups. I like it with celery in it, but we didn’t have any as I’m slimming the fridge down at the moment. Normally I make it with beans too, as a sort of main course soup, but was surprised to find I had run out of canned beans. I must get a grip on the supplies.

Julia, Sutton-on-Sea, in a chip shop. It’s like  a duller version of Cluedo, isn’t it?

That reminded me of something I could have written about last night – can openers. Our only can opener proved unable to remove the top from another can,  and this one wasn’t even bent. A can opener that doesn’t open cans is not much use. In fact it’s not technically a can opener at that point. I must buy another but it needs some thought as the last one we bought fell apart within weeks, lasting only long enough for me to misplay the receipt. I’m also going to buy one of the old-fashioned bull’s head pattern – they are dangerous but effective, and I’d hate to starve to death as I gaze at a pile of unopenable cans. I do actually have one around the house  from my antique dealing days. They are quite heavy so if I can’t cut the tin open I can bludgeon it until it gives up its contents. Lightweight versions of this were the only things we had at one time – the modern type safety opener was a marvel when we first saw them.

Julia as Lifeguard – Britannia Pier, Great Yarmouth

 

Of Keys and Cans and Walking Sticks and Cabbages and Kings

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Fishermen on the beach at Huttoft

This morning I thought of a good title for today’s post. In the afternoon, I thought of an even better one. Of course, by the time I thought about writing, both of them had faded away.

It has been a day when I have had to face up to my age. I hadn’t realised I was going to be doing that in my 60s, it seemed more like an activity for my 70s and 80s. It just goes to show how much I didn’t realise about my future.

Looking back, it started yesterday. Julia remarked that I looked down, and I asked her what I had to be happy about. Then something else happened. I can remember that something else happened, I just can’t remember what it was. it may come back to me.

Fishing in the Trent

Then today I had a knock on the door. It was one of the neighbours telling me someone had run into my car and knocked the door mirror  off. It wasn’t as bad as it sounded – it’s the shroud and repeater that have been knocked off. The rest of it is still OK. I know this because it’s exactly the same damage that was done when a bus clipped me in traffic. It comes under the value of the Policy Excess for the insurance and, last time, cost £90. It will be more this time, I’m sure.

Fortunately, they had stopped and left details with the neighbour and, as they only live down the street I was able to walk down and agree what was going to happen.

\then I walked back. Whilst doing so, I met the man who lives on the corner. He was out with his walker. It is one of those contraptions with a frame, four wheels, a seat and brakes. Difficult to describe, but you have probably seen them around. He used to have sticks.  Time, as we agreed, has not been kind to us.

Fishing opposite the County Council offices

When I got home I found the mortice lock was jammed and I couldn’t unlock it. I tried all sorts of things, pushing and pulling the door, turning the key both ways – nothing worked. So I ran through a list fo options in my head.

Suddenly the clouds parted, a sunbeam shone forth and I had an idea. (the aforementioned clouds and sunbeams are metaphorical, by the way, there was no actual divine intervention). When I had left I had been in a hurry. So I unlocked the Yale, and the door opened. The reason I couldn’t unlock the mortice lock was because it was not locked. Another one for the growing list of senior moments.

I just stopped to put the evening meal in the oven. Sausages, in case you were wondering – we’re having an unimaginative, low quality cooking regime cookery regime at the moment – I’m just not enthused by the idea of cooking.

Haddock Special at the Fishpan, Scarborough

While I was doing that, my brain was clearly catching up. The “something else” that happened was making Julia’s sandwiches. I decided on tuna mayonnaise, which includes, black pepper, chopped green tops of spring onions (scallions) and lemon juice. Unfortunately I’d dropped a stack of tuna tins a few weeks ago (I buy them in the wrapped columns of four) and the weight of the falling stack had bent the top tin. The can opener won’t work on bent rims. It’s a poor opener, but it has outlasted all the supposedly better ones, which seem to fall apart. So I used a knife. But my grip is not what it used to be and the can resisted. So I employed a screwdriver. Eventually, in a process which owed nothing to common sense, I managed to get half the top folded back and spooned the tuna out.

It is very depressing when a tin can appears to be more intelligent, and stronger, than I am. Is it any wonder I am depressed?

Then I remembered the good title for the post. It wasn’t that good second time round. I still can’t remember the better one. I’m going to try to think of another one.

Ah, I have an idea.

Tin Kingfisher