The Bells Have Made Me Deaf

Cloves all peeled waiting to be squeezed into a simmering sauce. I popped in two, double deckered and aimed for the pot. Both hands required to press I was ready to lift a knife and scrape the pureed parts that cling on. The whole cloves shot across the floor like bullets. I briefly imagined I had performed some slight of hand and paused for the mental applause while staring at the unpressed garlic lying in a corner. I turned the press in disbelief to find the grid was gone… now lost in the sauce. Another tool worn thin. In some ways I was happy about it. That press was always too small for the quantities I like to add requiring a reload and two scrapings. I managed not to break any teeth and spat out the offending metal… it being intact as one lump. If there were smaller pieces, they were too small to qualify as grit and passed through my mouth unnoticed. The usual garlicy flavour was lacking.

I was taking a short cut from the car park behind Wardens shop in Newtownards to the bank. The short cut goes through a shop that I can’t remember the name of. I think it’s Reflections or something like that. They have kindly allowed people to use their premises as a thoroughfare but I should think that it brings them extra business. People passing through being tempted by various acouterments including 2 (3 if you’re determined) clove capacity garlic presses. Made in Taiwan. I try to picture it as Made in Formosa, a more gentle name, and wonder how long this one will last… only £2.99.. roll up.

Back at the van. The dog was keeping my seat warm as usual. Do I fight the traffic and wait in a queue for cheap diesel or call at the first garage on my side of the street regardless of price. I opt for the latter only having a fiver left to spend. The saving would probably be taken up in extra fuel while sitting in the queue. Only a handful of pence given over gladly to the higher rate garage to get back out of town as quickly as possible. No queue at their pumps and a view over Strangford Lough. I doubt that the youngster behind the counter appreciates looking out at Scrabo tower with the sun shining on it and a host of migratory birds on the mudflats. I lift the diesel hose from the pump and spill a nozzlefull of fuel left from the last customer all down the van. If only I had got it in faster it would have made up for the difference in price! At least now one part of the bodywork is clean! Intending to take some photos I had the camera in my jacket pocket. Everything I wanted to snap was out of range. I want a new camera with decent optical zoom. I’ll have to want.

Getting near home, the tide was out, being a few hours earlier than yesterdays walk. I parked at the end of my road and took mutley for a run on the expanse of sand. Not a soul in sight. Just some Sandpipers, Oyster Catchers and a handful of Canada Geese that immediately took to flight scolding at my invasion. I could have stayed longer but didn’t.

Posted on Wednesday, January 11th, 2006 at 4:24 pm.
Tags: Daily Life.
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