Unsaved

So I wrote a lovely post, linking my enjoyment of our (relatively) new bathroom to contentment, world politics, and St Paul, and then it didn’t save.  Typical.  I actually manage to write about world politics, and nothing’s kept.

I should have gone back to the default of setting of writing about food, and all would have been well. Or I could have turned it into icecream.  Or something.

Aha!  I wrote one paragraph, uploaded it, and it’s still there.  So there’s time to expand my theme, considering the many little things we see day to day, that our minds and brains take in, but we don’t think are there any more.  It’s said that actually we do retain amazing amounts more than we know we do.

Reading an article about a couple who go around the UK, taking photos of all kinds of random things.  The best one they showed in the article, I have to say, was a poodle dressed (I kid you not) in a brown shell suit, tethered outside a shop.  I have a certain respect for people who set out to look for things that most of us don’t notice, or don’t think we’ve remembered.

I remember visiting a museum in Gloucester, the Pack Age, I think sadly no longer there.  It was set up by one of the Opies, Robert if I remember, who collected (and still does now) lots and lots of packaging, I think mainly from the UK.

It was said that the older you were, the more you enjoyed the visit, because there were so many things that you would recall, that you had no idea you had filed away in your brain until you were presented with them again.

I probably do tend to hoard, rather than to live a clear and unfettered lifestyle.  Moving house a lot growing up, things changed a lot, and it was attractive to keep lots of things, as a way of holding onto who I was at a particular time.

I would even keep items on my dressing table the same, because if I changed them, what record would there be of them ever having been like that?  Thankfully I have moved away from this, and am probably swinging the other way, identifying what’s tying me down, what isn’t really worth keeping.

I could attempt a happy little homily about things that are saved having some value.  And I guess that’s often true, although if we were to open our cupboards, we’d be amazed at how much we save that we don’t value.

My musings now in this blog are mainly a kind of brain dump, or virtual sharing of something that’s made me laugh, or think, or realise something new.  Perhaps I need to lay them down for a while, to mature, even to gain some dust around the outside, in order to see if they become more valuable.

So perhaps after all, save it…you never know what it’ll turn out to be later.

Far off photos

So, like many others (allegedly 50 000 in Edinburgh, which I can’t quite believe), I joined Facebook…

It’s a good job I’m trying to do social emails etc at home only, because the temptation to go back on and see what’s changed is clearly quite strong.  It’s a bit like a soap opera – but starring you and your friends!  Genius.

I’m aiming for the gradual transition approach, which involves adding one new friend a day, and gradually getting used to some of the other functions.  Today got more used to reading profiles of those who’ve agreed to be friends.

What was especially nice was seeing other people’s photos easily, particularly when these are people living in other countries from me.  In some ways, you can feel involved in their lives again, just seeing the pictures.  In other ways, it can feel a little sad – they’ve clearly been getting on fine, and those lives that were quite entwined at university time soon alter as people marry, move away…and one way or another, move on from the selves they used to be.  It’s very normal, no doubt, but a little disconcerting to see it so clearly through someone’s profile.

However, the whole point of doing the Facebook thing was to get back in touch with people, and that does seem to be going OK.  As with Friends Reunited before it, the people you’d really like to find out about are not on Facebook either (a couple of key school friends), but these things are never going to do everything for you.

There is a temptation to spend a lot of time making up new ‘Alison is…’ comments, but I will ration myself, honest.  One friend has clearly done well for himself in this respect – his one liners would not go amiss on late night BBC2 arts documentaries.  And when Facebook rises to such heights, it can’t be all bad.

Cadge a gadget

I didn’t cadge one, officer, I paid for it fair and square.  I just wanted a title for the post…

Moving on from bargains to gadgets – you wonder how much brain activity lights up when you find a truly exciting gadget.  Even though it may be said that men are keen on gadgets and tools, women don’t mind a good gadget either, and for this reason Lakeland was invented.  Or something like that.

I am never quite sure of what to make of a visit there.  One woman’s gadget is another one’s pernicketiness, I suppose, and sometimes I despair of those who must care so much about teabag drips that three separate items have been put in the catalogue.  ( I haven’t actually counted.  But I wouldn’t be surprised.)

A gadget is a bit like an ongoing bargain, because you continue to be impressed with yourself for having it.  There can be a certain excitement in more esoteric gadgets that really do do what you want them to.  I have a jam funnel, and it is very exciting to own one, even if it’s not pressed into service all the time.

Lakeland probably brings out the perfectionist in us.  It’s designed to feed the idea that if we do get the perfect gadget (or preferably several, for different parts of the house), life can be controlled.  Your pastry will never crack.  Your windows will always be shiny.  Your guests will never lack for carafes with matching tumblers to have at their bedside.  And so on.

So, where’s the fine line between the gadgets that do help (three cheers for the ones that help those with arthritis, or example), and those that help with our kitchen illusions?

It’s just interesting that in these times of growing obesity, yet more ready meals (even if they are organic etc.), Lakeland clearly still has these customers who do cook, bake, nay bottle and preserve.  Or perhaps, as is said of cookery programmes, we watch the programmes, we buy the books, and then we sit back, happy or even smug in the idea that we have an idea of what to cook and how to do so.  But no one is visiting to check that we actually do.

I saw an article at the start of the year one time, probably relating to spring cleaning, urging people to confess how many kitchen gadgets they had.  I started reading through the list, and let’s just say I had more of the items on the list than not.  Clearly I don’t use them all, all the time, it’s true.

But perhaps the chief joy of a gadget is that it can have an occasional use, and still be worth having.  I know I’ll make some marmalade once a year, most years, and so my jam funnel can keep a place in the kitchen, safe in the knowledge (do jam funnels have knowledge? Perhaps not, given the hole in the middle) that at the critical time, it is invaluable.  And above all, I enjoy using it, enjoy a little proficiency in my kitchen dabblings.

So, today’s confession purchase: cleaning cloths that you can put through the washing machine lots of times.  And the catalogue.  And the other catalogue – though you get them free.  Hmm.  Cunning, these gadgeteers.

Bit of a bargain

We’ve got into a bit of a habit of visiting our local Co-op after 7 in the evening, when they are starting to discount stock.  Clearly we’re getting known for it by the staff – one of the cashiers offered us a very low price on some biscuits that we’d looked over in the queue…

Thing is, we all like a bargain.  My excuse is that I’m stopping food going to waste, as well as getting a good price.  Sometimes the discounts are really good – Dan got some packs of salmon fillet that were going at 20p each…But it’s not always best for the waistline.

Most people are used to bargains one way or another – market stalls, buy one get one free offers, checking out the high street sales, that kind of thing.  Yet there’s watchdog type programmes that check up on stores which seem to put their products straight to sale.  It’s a competitive world, I guess.  But I do have to ask myself, would I be interested in getting something if it weren’t in a sale?

The ‘Body and Soul’ section of the Saturday Times ran some tests on what happened to people’s brain patterns when they were shopping, and particularly when they got a bargain.

When it was deemed to be a particularly good bargain, some chemical went sky-high, in a way that would happen to you if you went bungy-jumping, even though people are not aware of such a surge of positive feeling.

So maybe we’re hard wired to it.  Or maybe we need to guard against it, if marketing people are going to use such awareness to get us to buy yet more stuff…

We’re also a society which is swamped by consumer choice.  So maybe by choosing bargains only, we’re making life easier for ourselves, cutting down the choices.   Or maybe we’re giving away our choices to someone else, who has profit margins, peaks in stock, and other market forces to guide their decision making, rather than what we want to choose.

Thankfully, the dieticians will back me up in saying that it’s always good to choose vegetables.  I think.

Autumn plunder

Nothing like something for nothing, especially when you can eat it.  There may be no such thing as a free lunch, but there is thankfully some free food to be found, usually around hedgerows etc.

Last year we discovered great bramble bushes (aka blackberry for those unsure) on the cycle path near us.  Even though last year was sunny in the summer and this year was not, still gathered quite a lot.  The attempt at making bramble jam was less successful, losing not only the brambles (by now in a solid lump) but also the container they were in, which they refused to be parted from.

Last weekend’s excitement (apart from choosing my laptop) was elderberry picking.  We seem to have gained an elderberry bush at the bottom of the garden, which has been conveniently hanging over our side of the fence, so picked most of those, and hope to turn them into icecream.

They are probably the only thing in the garden benefitting from our compost heap, which gets added to, but sadly not yet used on plants…As the elderberry bush is on the other side of the fence from the compost bin, we can only assume conditions are good, as it wasn’t there last year.

Final bit of plunder was only from the Co-op, really, so doesn’t really count (although when they discount their veg at the end of the day, it’s almost as good as hunter gathering).  Bought beetroot for cooking with for the first time, turning out beetroot soup and some beetroot to go with a roast chicken (which was particularly good!).  Having tried lots of other soups earlier in the year, beetroot was a gap on the list.

Reports will follow on how well these work out.  Besides, I promised friends overseas that I would write about some Edinburgh stuff, and brambling etc is part of the picture.  (So is washing floors, but I will spare you all that.)