Surprise, surprise

The doorbell rang. It was a courier delivering a box from that emporium of all things gadgetty, Lakeland.

For a moment my heart sank. I had no recollection of ordering anything - not even the perforated pie pan I covet (because it holds out the promise of no more soggy bottoms). Was this proof - as the OH* often triumphantly observes - that I must have early stage Alzheimer's?

Further investigation revealed a chocolate melting pot, a blue object called Limey and some sticky stuff remover. There must have been a mix-up, I thought. I definitely hadn't ordered this.

The OH appears. Under cross-examination he admits that he is responsible for buying these items. My heart, which had recovered, sinks again. He has discovered Lakeland online. This is truly serious.

Ever since he retired (sorry, ever since he decided to reduce his workload) the OH has been compensating for the drop in income by making 'savings'. Sometimes this frugality has had unexpected consequences. Take the day he drove to Morrisons to buy a leg of lamb that was on special offer, only to have an unexpected collision in the car park. That resulted in the loss of his no claims bonus and an increase in his car insurance premium.

One way the OH 'saves' us money is to shop for things online. Things that mostly can be used to fix stuff, so we can go on using them instead of taking them to the tip like normal people.

Add to this the fact that the OH is a sucker for gadgets, and you will understand why I foresee trouble ahead. Does anyone else own a gizmo for coring and peeling pineapples? Or a whistling egg?

Anyway, he was very defensive about his purchases. The Limey would solve the problem of getting limescale off the bottom of taps, the sticky stuff remover would be great at getting rid of sticky stuff, and he always found it difficult melting chocolate so the chocolate melting pot would be very useful.

The bill came to £14.33. The Perfobake Pie Tin is only £10.26. I could do a swap and get a bag of soft liquorice thrown in. Now where's the returns slip ...

*OH= Other Half (certainly NOT Old Hasbeen or Overbearing Husband, whatever were you thinking?)

Pants to that

Next week we are off to Spain where we have a modest terraced house with a (very distant) sea view.
We bought it so that the family could come and stay with us during the holidays - only they don't, so it's usually just us.

The last time we were there things started off badly. The first morning went thus:
Other half (crossly): "I have no underpants. I will have to buy some."

Me: "Were they in the last load of washing we did before we left. Could they by any chance be on the washing line down in the garage?"

I suspect he thinks I binned them. He shrugs and starts rummaging around in the kitchen. Since he retired he has added housework to his list of newly acquired skills.

I make coffee and say nothing when he uses the cloth we use for dishes to wipe the down the garden table and chairs. But when he takes the new broom (the one I bought specially) out to the patio I cannot resist pointing out that it is the indoor broom.

He objects to my tone, insists I am mistaken and tells me to lighten up - then maybe I'd enjoy life more.
He carries on sweeping the patio with the indoor broom.

When I go down to the garage in search of his underpants I spot the outdoor, stiff bristled broom and take it back up with me. I put it where he can see it without saying anything. I can tell by the set of his shoulders that he is not speaking to me.

There were three pairs of pants on the washing line.

Finally - a diagnosis

At lunch with a girl friend. Usual moaning about trials and tribulations of life. Then she said: "You know your what your problem is - you've got RHS*."

Light dawned. She had diagnosed the root cause of all my symptoms. Being snappy. Feeling worn out. Gaining weight.

Better still, she came up with a solution. Never mind talking therapies, she said. Write it all down. And so I will.

*Retired Husband Syndrome.