Time and patience
The
biggest adjustment though is me. I need to get used to this strange new room. I
do not recognise it with its smooth shining grey walls and its up-to-the minute
shower and taps. A slight turn or light touch and it springs to life. Even the
flush is automatic.
I have
to forget the familiar dripping bath tap which I could turn with my big toe and
the crack in the sink that wound around islands like the River Severn. The frog
soap dish is redundant now and will never again fall and swim in the bath
water. I must go with the flow so to speak and drag myself into this modern
world.
My
friend down the lane is planning a new kitchen. I sat at her table where I have
often sat over the last twenty or so years. I looked at her warm oak finish
units and heard how they are not modern enough. Modern goes from floor to
ceiling and maximizes space. The radiator warming my hands is to be replaced
with shining vertical pipes. Walls will be knocked through for ease of access
to the little pantry and the whole thing will be unrecognisable like our
bathroom. I did not say anything, but she is in for a long journey, mind you
she is younger than me and is looking forward to the change.
The
season is changing too and we are trying to keep up. There are still blackberries
in the freezer from last year’s autumn garden and our rhubarb is ready. This is
not supposed to happen I like to empty the freezer by the end of April but we
have become distracted and so the autumn blackberries have clashed with the
ready rhubarb.
Mr T
covered the rhubarb clump early in the year with an old dolly tub that was left
lolling in the garden. I remember my mother’s zinc dolly tub in the wash house at
the back of our farmhouse. The clothes went in there with water from what she
called a ‘copper’ – she lit a fire underneath to heat the water. What a life
our dolly has seen and now it is being used for something useful in different
times.
The tub
has kept the shocking red rhubarb sticks in the dark and has forced them into
tender stems just right for a delicious crumble.
(Taken from my column in the Shropshire Star)
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