This was a rather different day. Not gardening or walking. I decided to empty and paint the larder. For those of you who are not familiar with this concept, it is also known as a pantry, and in our house is a large cupboard under the stairs. First task was to take everything out. I wondered what might might be lurking in the depths, but I am not such a slut that I don’t check over the contents periodically. However, I did find a vaccination record dated 1996 for a cat, Charlie, long since passed on. Also, some sugar sprinkles, no date, some orange and lemon crystallised slices, 2001, which we used to put on cheesecakes in the 1990’s, and some spices for Bombay potatoes, 2001, which would undoubtedly now be tasteless. Otherwise OK. I always squirrel away pots of paint, and had enough to emulsion all the surfaces, and gloss for the door. My father, a very impractical man in general, enjoyed painting and decorating, and I always think about him when engaged on a similar task. He liked hanging wallpaper and taught me how to do it. He used to sing a ditty which may have dated from his army days;
“When father papered the parlour, he covered himself in paste, dab in his ear, dab in his hair, paste and paper everywhere, the cat was stuck to the ceiling, the kids were stuck to the floor, you never saw a family so stuck up before!!”
After papering a wall, he would stroke it and admire it, and say “Oh wall, oh wall, oh sweet and lovely wall!” When I heard this at a performance of a Midsummer Night’s Dream, I nearly had hysterics at hearing Dad’s decorating mantra.
I managed to get paint in my hair, and despite showering and brushing, I still have a rather fetching streak of white on top. But since everyone now has to accept the encroaching greyness, as all hairdressers are closed, perhaps I can just join the trend.
I only found earrings this evening, and they are Kenyan. Quite heavy, made of brass. I bought them from a colleague many years ago, who was a Kenyan Asian, who fled with her family to Britain. She had a disabled son, and sold various Kenyan items to raise money for the charity which had supported them. I think of her when I wear them.
There will be another 8pm clap this evening, and I am glad that the brief has been widened to all carers and key workers. I think I read that 40% of the working population actually has to physically go there. It’s good to remember that it’s not only the NHS.