Falling apart

Barbara elvy Strate

I feel as though I'm falling apart. My mind and body no longer work anywhere near the efficiency of the past and don't stand up to the rigors of houseguests as they did until a few years ago. Though I wouldn't want to be without family visits as I enjoy people, especially my Brit relatives… These realizations are hard to accept.

I prepare well for my niece Sally, her husband Mick and daughter Sarah's summer visits by compiling menus, stocking the pantry, baking deserts and sweet breakfast breads that can be frozen.

One day I made an orange pastry shell, a new recipe that sounded appetizing, and filled the shell with a mixture of tart Flathead cherries, cornstarch, sugar and orange zest. I cut thin strips of pastry for a pretty lattice top and I placed it in the freezer with pride. I baked it a week later and sliced it to serve. The filling hadn't jelled… The picture in my mind of firm cherry pie topped with vanilla ice cream served on Nippon desert plates with a sage green and red border crumbled.

In disgust I hit my forehead with the heel of my hand and said to Sally, "What's the matter with me? I've made more cherry pies than I care to count and know full well that the filling should be cooked before it goes into the shell."

Though the flavor was delicious, it didn't have the picture perfect effect when spooned into deep brown bowls.

The next day Sally and I did the laundry. I added a measure of laundry detergent to the tub. "I don't like this detergent and I won't buy it again because the crystals don't dissolve." I explained. I bought it with the claimant, "NEW. Double cleaning action. Use half as much as ordinary powders." and in fine print, "This box equals 65 ounces of regular detergent." Great I thought. I like cleaning products that lessen the amount of chemicals that drain into the sewer system and it's nice to save pennies too.

Sally picked up the box to read about the contents. She reads every label before she purchases an item, which is smart. Whereas, I read mostly the large print and the price. That's the difference between one who likes to shop and one like me who doesn't.

"No wonder the crystals don't dissolve, especially if you use cool water. This is dishwasher detergent," Sally said pointing to a picture on the box for her vacant-brained Auntie, "See the sparkle on the wine glass."

We had a giggling fit. With no other laundry detergent on hand I emptied the last of my good buy into the machine with a large load and remarked through giggles, I announced, "It has one good point. It gets the clothes clean."

I really don't like my inefficiency to show up to the extent it did when they were with us, but a larger power takes control of my senses at the most inopportune moments…

We have a Russell Hobbs electric teakettle, which I dearly love. It was a gift from our daughter Jil about four years ago. It boils water to the high temperature to make a good cup of tea and turns off automatically, which is a blessing. When I leave the house I don't worry about burning it down.

A year ago I sent to the company for two filters. I replaced the old filter with one and the other has not been found since I put it somewhere in the house and forgot about it. Hubby and I have searched every drawer, cabinet and corner in the house and even the freezers and refrigerator, no luck.

An efficiency streak hit me one day when I was alone and I phoned Russell Hobbs company to order two filters. I didn't want to be without one if needed when by Brits were visiting. The company informed me that they no longer stocked them and couldn't give me the name of one that did…Being in a quandary I mentioned this to Jil and she made the very bright suggestion that we e-mail Sally in England to order a couple from Russell Hobbs, as it is a British company. She e-mailed back in nothing flat to say that she had ordered two filters and would bring them in July.

Delighted, though I thought what a long way around we had to go to get the needed filters. Every night I empty the kettle, rinse it and wipe the inside with a paper towel. One morning, before our guests were up and about, I lifted the lid on the kettle. It was slightly hot. Panic set in. The switch on the handle was ON. I flipped it OFF instantly. After a short spell of thought I realized that after that last chore of the day I'd subconsciously flipped the switch ON.

"That's just great," I mused. "I have two new filters that came across the Atlantic Ocean plus three states and I've burned up the kettle. Might as well fill it. Turn it on to see if it works."

Luck was with me. I heard the water heating. I breathed a sigh of relief. Mick came upstairs. I related to him what I'd done. He said, very calmly, "Not to worry, those appliances have a sensor."

The words "Learn something new every day," crossed through my overloaded brain. In looking over the near-disasters of the past few weeks I presume that I should periodically activate my brain by hitting my forehead with the heel of my hand.