10 May 2009

I have decided that, after all, I don't feel so insecure without the spare key to my car. I can't recall ever having lost an important key in my life and it really isn't important.

This has otherwise been a weekend of achievement. Well, kind of. In the small ways that please me nowadays anyway. I had undertaken to provide lunch for the workers at the bungalow. When I say workers, of course, I mean my younger son, my brothers, some of my nephews and my parents, but they were the ones involved in the work - well, those who weren't playing, whilst I could only manage to sit and watch. But at least I could do something.

I suppose I had already done something, having driven to the wholly inappropriately-named Silvertown to collect steel reinforcement. This having been rattling around in the back of my car for a couple of days was a relief to offload, but at last I felt I'd made some contribution.

But back to the lunch. I had volunteered to cook, in the absence of the (relatively) fit and healthy womenfolk on the Race for Life. It sounds appallingly sexist to be reliant on the women for sustenance, but any of them who prefer to be digging or clambering around fixing roof tiles have always been welcomed with open arms. That they have generally opted to perform the equally valued role of 'tea lady' is just the way it has been. So it was that my Saturday evening was spent browning mince and peeling potatoes to make the three Shepherds Pies that would be needed to satisfy the crew. I am pleased to report that I completed the task, with assistance from my father - a veteran 'spud basher' - and the resulting fare was devoured with appropriate speed.

I have always enjoyed cooking, but never for its own sake. I take no pleasure in seeing the finished product sitting on the table, but only in the empty dishes and filled tummies that results. Today, I was able to derive much satisfaction from that. The quantity was sufficient for as many seconds (or thirds) as anyone wanted, with only the tiniest amount remaining. And the preparation was completed with only minor discomfort tanks to the stool thoughtfully provided by my mother, on which I was able to perch and minimise the now-customary fatigue in my legs.

All in all, a most satisfactory weekend, where I was at last able to feel that I made a positive contribution. It may not sound like much, but these days I take my pleasures where I can get them.