kitchen sink – derrickjknight

He Thought It Fun To Push Me Over

Sightings of foxes have been discussed on Streetlife lately. One person reported six in a pack. Another pointed out that these creatures are loners, not pack animals. I have never seen more than one adult at a time, but have been acquainted with two families, one every spring in the garden of the Phyllis Holman Richards Adoption Society, and a single parent and her children in that of our flat in Morden. These posts were published before I was illustrating them with photographs.

Are the foxes responsible for the scattering of feathers that are often lining Downton Lane in the morning, or maybe birds of prey?

Does anyone have a view on the loners/packs debate, or on the likelihood of foxes or birds of prey committing the slaughter.

This afternoon I rescanned another batch of colour slides from 1964 and ’65, covering our year in Ashcombe Road, Wimbledon. This was the first house I ever bought.

Here are Vivien and Michael in our garden in March 1965:

The following month we celebrated our son’s first birthday. I caught him raiding the vegetable store in the kitchen. That cheeky grin was never far from his face.

In June, at least, we bathed him in the kitchen sink, where he loved sucking on the face flannel.

Like any other toddler, in July he fed himself, his face, and his high chair in more or less equal measure. In those days I did my own wallpapering, including what appears in the background of this picture. It is probably the only time I would ever have chosen such a geometric design as was then in vogue.

Michael and I laid turves in the garden during August, when, as I crouched to take this shot, he took great delight in pushing me over.

When in June, I had chosen to wait to snap a forsythia bush until Vivien and Michael had appeared in the corner of the frame, little did I know that this would be the last image of them together.

We didn’t eat this evening. Neither of us felt like either consuming or preparing anything. I had knocked up scrambled egg on toast for lunch, but that was it. Jackie remains in the grip of a virulent chest confection and I spent the afternoon unsuccessfully attempting to avoid succumbing myself. Between five and nine p..m. I flopped in front of the television watching consecutive episodes of Morse and Lewis, and slowly subsiding into somnolence. (No, BBC YouView has not been miraculously restored, so these were repeats on DTV). I then finished this post and went to bed.

Watch this space.

Cleaning And Hanging

This morning’s test confirmed that Matthew has successfully cleared our shower soak away. Goodness knows what the blockage was, but Bullitt had not penetrated it.
To begin the day, Jackie and I each carried out a fairly extensive cleaning task. Personally, I think I drew the short straw. My task was the removal of the third lavatory seat, the scouring of the porcelain, and the fitting of a replacement. Mat and Tess had brought us the replacement yesterday. we had actually given it to them for Christmas, but it didn’t fit their colour scheme, so they bought another, and we bought this one back off them. That way they still had a present from us. Should anyone wish to read a description of the seat replacement process, I would refer you to ‘Beyond Rancid’ posted on 8th of this month.

Jackie chose to clean and polish the refurbished clock given to Jessica and me by Michael thirty three years ago. And a very good job she made of it too. It is a much lighter wood than I have known for years.
This afternoon hanging was the task. Whilst Jackie hung a pair of curtains she hand bought in B & Q on a length of dowelling from Knights ironmongers, I paid attention to a couple of pictures.

The curtains frame the kitchen window rather nicely, and happily blend with the cloth that happened to be on the dining table. On the bottom left of the window-sill stands a stoneware vase that Becky made for Jessica and me when she was an art student in the early 1990s. Suspended from the ceiling at top right are a set of wind chimes made from silver-plated cutlery given to me by Michael’s children when they were all quite small. They are on the list for a polish.
Towards the end of the last decade, when I was living in Sutherland Place, I printed a large number of A3+ size prints of my colour slides, and began a practice of changing those on display each week. I bought two large frames with perspex windows having magnets at each corner. It was a simple process to slip out on photo and insert another. Now we have a suitable property in which to begin again.
We had a diversion to B & Q in Christchurch, where we bought a spirit level, the like of which has been a stranger to our house for many years. My pictures are held by two nails, so a means of ensuring they went up in a straight line was a definite requirement.
I have chosen to reproduce the framed hangings as they are in situ. This means that the observant viewer will be able to work out where they are in the house.

The portrait of Michael in the kitchen sink, taken by me at Ashcombe Road whilst Vivien was bathing him, is from August 1965. Is there anyone who has at no time bathed their child in the kitchen sink?
By September 1967 when the next photograph was taken, Vivien had died and Jackie and I had met. One pleasant outing was taken with Jackie, her mother, and her sister Helen.

This picture was in a carriage of the Romney, Hythe, and Dymchurch steam railway. It has always remained one of my favourites. I have never returned to that tourist attraction, but Jackie, who has, tells me that the view we had enjoyed on that day is now obscured by houses.
Giles Darvill is one of my oldest friends, and, by virtue of living in Milford on Sea, is now a neighbour. This evening Jackie and I visited him and Jean, his lady friend, and dined on an individual curry carefully selected by Giles for each of us. Jackie drank Kronenberg and the rest of us two different red wines. Giles had not seen Jackie since 1972, but the years just rolled away and we enjoyed very pleasant company.
The stained glass piece my friend made for my fiftieth birthday has already been mentioned. Other works of his also adorn our home. The fascinating fact is that, of my possessions brought to our joint home, Jackie selected those for display without knowing their pedigree.

‘Didn’t You Know Grandpa Was Jesus?’

Until now, I have spared my readers photographs of the more rancid receptacles in our fun-filled adventure. Everything, in fact, but the kitchen sink. Having scoured the sink itself on numerous occasions, but being slightly perturbed by the unpleasant aromas emanating from the plug holes, Jackie decided to dismantle them and investigate. She was to regret it, but made a good job of speeding the water’s descent to the septic tank in the garden.
The tray at the bottom of the good quality shower in our en suite bathroom fills to paddling level during a shower. The water takes some considerable time to soak away and leaves a slippery scum. I hesitate to think what might be impeding its passage.
Given that it is Easter Sunday, and that we had Becky and Flo with us, number 50, the next picture in the ‘through the ages’ series, is serendipitous. The photograph of my daughter and me was taken by Jessica in no. 2 Horse & Dolphin Yard in July 1974. I have mentioned before that I have given each of my children stacks of albums of their childhood photographs. A print of this one is in Becky’s collection.
Some time during Jackie and my years apart, Becky was showing her mother the albums. On reaching this picture Jackie expressed a certain surprise at my appearance. ‘Didn’t you know Grandpa was Jesus?’ piped up our granddaughter.
I make no claim to deity, and have no wish to be sacrilegious, but think the story worth telling.
Rendering yesterday’s watering of plants in pots unnecessary, we experienced steady rain all day today. These epimedium leaves are probably feeling refreshed by it.
Becky and Ian came for the evening, to stay over, and to take Flo home tomorrow. Cooking a full roast dinner for the first time in her new, confusing, kitchen this evening, Jackie produced as tender lamb and as crisp vegetables, including roast potatoes and parsnips, as ever. We all five enjoyed it. Jackie and Ian drank Hoegaarden whilst I imbibed Campo de Borja Caliente Rojo 2012.