Today I discovered another downside to old age , when I was outwitted by the wrappers on a couple of pasties. In an ideal world I would, of course, be making my own pasties, but as I have no intention of spending an hour doing something that five minutes should accomplish, I bought two pasties last week (they were on offer) and stuck them in the fridge. Tonight I got them out and just spent ten minutes wrestling with them.

It seems that I no longer have the dexterity to open a packet and extract a pasty. The packet kept resealing itself and the pasty seemed to swell so that it wedged itself in the opening. Instead of throwing them in with the roasted veg to finish the preparation of I ended up in the middle of something that felt like I was  Tarzan wresting a crocodile. What should have been a simple case of lazy cookery became a voyage into self-discovery and a realisation of my own mortality.

The day started badly when someone drove into Lidl’s car park at high speed, trailing loud music, and parked across two disabled spaces. He didn’t seem disabled. He was clearly of low moral character, but that isn’t the same as a disability. He went on to crowd me at the bakery counter (which just made me move slower) and to throw fruit and veg around as he searched to the back of the shelves to find the fresher produce.

If he’d been in his twenties, or in an expensive car you’d have said he was one of those tycoon types who was always in a hurry to get ahead in life. As he was in his late 30s and driving a shabby Vauxhall, I feel he was probably just a jerk. He would, I’m sure, know all his rights if you engaged his poor lonely brain cells in conversation, but have no concept of obligations.

In an ideal world a vengeful God would have pointed a finger from the clouds and this man would have been left as a bubbling grease spot on the floor near the fresh fruit counter. He would have been a slip hazard, but no more than that. This, I feel, is where the Old Testament could teach us a thing or two.

I then went home, clutching various baked goods and helped  a neighbour with a sticking door latch. This developed into a clandestine cup of tea (as we should not be meeting indoors). I think some socially distanced help with the door was in order, but drinking the tea was a sign of my moral decline. I obviously caught this from the bloke in Lidl.

From there to struggling with the pasty packaging just shows how steep the slippery slope is…

I was looking for photos when I found this picture. You don’t often find a butterfly on a crocus because butterflies are rare in crocus season. I thought I’d use it to remind myself that hope is just around the corner.