January 9th 2018

Today I raided my Grandad’s garage for housekeeping paraphernalia. I went round to see him after work, and there was a tagine just sat there, waiting for me to take it home. When Alice and I moved into our first house together, we basically didn’t have to buy anything because everybody we knew seemed to have something that they wanted to give away. We got a bed from an Aunty, a sofa from a Mum, a mirror from another aunty, and a cupboard from another Mum.

We got basically all our kitchen supplies from my Grandad’s garage, but I must have missed the tagine on the first sweep. Since my Nan died all of that stuff has gone untouched, so it’s nice to have inherited it. Grandad doesn’t cook for himself. At all. He lives off a carefully curated diet of ready meals, kebabs, and leftovers from neighbours and family members. Much in the same way that I furnished my house by the kindness of relatives, Grandad feeds himself through the kindness of relatives.

So he told me to take some more kitchen stuff. And then when I had my hands full of kitchen stuff he asked if I wanted an ironing board. He doesn’t iron things either. He pays ‘The Ironing Fairy’ to do it for him. Honestly, I also considered paying The Ironing Fairy to do my ironing, but then I learned that she charges £1 per item and nobody has that kind of money. Except maybe pensioners.

So, I packed the boot of my car up with a tagine, a cast-iron crockpot, a roasting tin, an iron and an ironing board. It was a pretty successful haul. In return, all I had to do was put something on ebay for him.

Until tomorrow, maybe I’ll cook something for him in the tagine as well.


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