The curious tale of the Cornish pasty on the radiator

‘Why is there a Cornish pasty just below the radiator?’ asked Shana, who was sitting on the living room floor, dazed and contused.

A fair question, I thought, noting also her concerns about randomly scattered boiled new potatoes, one or two nestled comfortably by the maze of wires under the computer desk. And sharing her puzzlement at the row of garden peas lodged between the living room wall and the radiator pipework just above the skirting board. It struck me that the peas were lined up rather like a row of green balls ready for a snooker player’s trick shot.

Thankfully, this evening’s meal had included no gravy. (Big phew! there πŸ™‚ ) Β And the little helpings of butter that had adorned the potatoes had hardly had time to melt before disaster struck, and so were fairly easy to clear up.

If you had just walked in the scene would have been a little like that on the ill-fated Marie Celeste, albeit a Marie Celeste manned by very messy eaters and with two of the scurvy crew (viz. Shana and I) still on board.

It’s a bit like one of those Sherlock Holmes locked-room mysteries, this, isn’t it? I bet you can’t wait to hear how this sorry scene came to be.

Well, it’s all quite prosaic, alas. We had just sat down to a late afternoon/early evening meal, when Shana decided to fetch a cushion from another part of the living room.Unfortunately she tripped over my foot, which had been so inconsiderate as to be on the end of my leg and also directly in Shana’s path. I am now designated as a human trip hazard and shall hand myself in to Health and Safety later this week, to return only when clad entirely in Shana-resistant padding.

Anyway, Shana now has more bruises than a crate of dropped apples, and feels like she’s been cage fighting with a grizzly bear.

I helped by clearing up the food debris and by wiping the floor with antibacterial wipes and doing lots of brushing. Then I checked on how Shana was faring. You may argue that I got my priorities wrong, but I contend that bumps and grazes always improve over time; whereas some of our floor covering was from an end-of-line selection and may very well be irreplaceable.

Anyway, I did make an excellent pot of tea soon afterwards, so I’ll have my gold star and nursing badge back, thanks all the same.

Tomorrow, I shall be wearing a hi-divisibility (sic?) jacket in order to be more noticeable. And Shana will be trundling around with the aid of a pair of those little stabiliser wheels that three-year-olds have on their bicycles.

Because you can never be too careful, can you? πŸ™‚


2 thoughts on “The curious tale of the Cornish pasty on the radiator

  1. Ouch! Poor Shana 😦

    It’s normally my hubby, or my daughter whenever she visits, who fall foul of my crutches, which cause the worst of our food spills Chez NightOwl, so you both have my condolences – for you as the culprit, Chris – as I’m sure your legs sticking out in Shana’s way, wasn’t a deliberate thing, yes? But also for you, Shana, as the poor, bruised, foodless victim of the fall 😦

    I guess you could say that I’m fortunate in living in a house that has a scotch-guarded carpet in the kitchen, as there isn’t much that can’t be wiped clean off it – though that would be wrong, as I loath and detest carpet in the kitchen, but can’t afford to replace it with the decent covering I’d really love in there!

    I hope your bruises clear up quickly, Shana πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The bruises will take a while to clear, and my chest feels like I’ve been hit with an iron bar, but I feel strangely liberated, knowing I can survive such a serious fall without the need to see a doc, or go the hospital, I am Iron Woman LOL!!

      Liked by 1 person

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