Weathering life’s STORMS
Colin receives tough news while braving the cold
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We have to draw the line somewhere,” I heard myself muttering as we entered the fifth week of our epic and ongoing house renovation. “The toaster cannot live in the bathroom. That would feel like the beginning of the end of civilisation.”
My beloved wife shot me one of her looks – the one that hints I should get over myself. But I’m feeling a little less inclined to do that as the mornings turn colder and the charms of outdoor cooking fade further. Mind you, we’ve hardly ever resorted to takeaways, which seems like some sort of miracle. Or perhaps simply a reluctance to leave home.
The toaster had been temporarily living down in the garage, just a short and invigorating walk away, I tried to point out. There was already enough stuff cluttering our temporary kitchen without adding an enormous four-slice toaster that we hardly ever use. And, anyway, I’d thought we were still mostly on that keto diet, the one that, among the many other tasty things it disallows, bans bread, toasted or otherwise. But it turns out that certain toasted items are exempt. Hot cross buns certainly were.
So, for now, the toaster lives in the bathroom and the fridge lives out on the porch, along with the rest of our temporary al fresco kitchen. I had thought the outdoor cooking experience might be so much fun, we’d cancel our new kitchen, save ourselves a small fortune and go for an extended holiday on the profit, but no. Cooking just doesn’t feel right without a nearby bench and a sink and – most of all, even more than a dishwasher – an oven. Barbecues, it turns out, aren’t really ovens.
I made the fastest casserole of my life in our gas barbecue the other night and, while it was edible enough, it had a hint of alarm about it that I didn’t like the taste of. And, as mentioned, winter’s coming in. Making coffee in the dark with a cold wind whipping round your ankles isn’t for softies and, I’m afraid, I’m a softie. But the kitchen designer said she’d been to the factory and seen our new kitchen and it was fabulous. I can’t wait to meet it, in a couple of weeks.
Meantime, it hasn’t just been winter blowing its cold winds around us.
We’re weathering one of those times in life when life itself seems a little chilly and, also, impossibly fragile. As my friend Sam Hunt said in a poem once, “The world is held together by cobwebs.” Sometimes you can feel them. You might have felt them when Princess Catherine courageously took her cancer news to the world recently. That announcement touched so many, not just because of her royal fame, but because so many of us have been touched already by similar news.
And I’m sorry to say that chilly wind is blowing around us right now as we try to cope with the news of two people close to our hearts who’ve had – and shared – devastating health news. Though, when I say devastating, neither is giving the impression of devastation or defeat. Not unlike Princess Catherine. Which, I suppose, says that in their courage, we must find ours. But it’s tough.
Life itself seems a little chilly and, also, impossibly fragile