That’s it for the KitKat

I started this blog as ‘Praise be the KitKat’. How quickly things can change.

I was inspired when I ate a KitKat at half time at an Arsenal match. The team was on a bad run – the three games before the KitKat had been three consecutive defeats. But with KitKats, the season was turned around, and a long unbeaten run began. There could be no doubting the power of those four chocolate fingers. After all, it’s happened before as I do have form.

My first encounter with the magic of the KitKat at halftime was at the start of the 2003-4 season, and as I repeated it, game after game, the team matched me with wins and draws, never losing, going on to become ‘the Invincibles’, undefeated during an entire Premier League campaign. 

The one match they did lose was an FA Cup semi-final, played at Villa Park. Walking from my car to the ground I couldn’t find a confectioner- or at least one that was open for the early kick-off. It meant, as I entered the ground, I knew the result was predestined, defeat was inevitable. And so it came to pass.

But for the rest of the season, KitKats blessed the team and they lost not a single game. (For purists, who will argue Arsenal lost matches in the European Champions’ League, that doesn’t count. It’s obvious the power of the KitKat won’t stretch beyond English competitions. Or the League Cup, for that matter.)  The following season, the KitKat’s energy drained away, finally extinguished by Wayne Rooney. But I was going to have to give it up anyway. Too many KitKats meant I was at risk of becoming obese.

Miraculously, thirty-two years earlier, there had been a similar sweet arbiter of success. In the 1970/71 season, it was a fresh cream cake that wove its magic spell over the team. I bought one before a match (a cream meringue, if I recall correctly) to consume after, and Arsenal went on to win the domestic double of League and FA Cup. (Dave and Ansil Collins were top of the UK singles charts, in case you don’t remember!)

The one match where the shop had sold out before I reached it resulted in a 5-0 drubbing at Stoke. Otherwise, it was unprecedented success for the club, and I had no doubt what was causing it. Who knows what heights might have reached if I’d continued. But the shop stopped selling cream cakes and an Eccles cake didn’t have the same efficacy.

And so to this season. I was religious in keeping the KitKat buying routine once the team started winning, the result being an undefeated run. And even when it came to a crushing end at Liverpool, I didn’t doubt the KitKat. I put it down to my wife, who’d bought one for me as a helpful gesture, rather than leaving me to buy my own. I returned to the proper routine for the next match and the result was a victory, so my faith was restored. I knew that it was the change of routine that had broken the spell.

Except, now I know differently. In the two matches since, the results have gone against the KitKat. My faith seems to have been misplaced. It didn’t ensure success after all. I should have realised.

Next match, I’m buying a Lion Bar.

A version of this post also appears on aisa.org

The trouble with Henry

I hate Henry.

I hate to admit is, but I loathe the happy, grinning face on the body of our vacuum cleaner.

It’s worst when the cleaner (I refuse to call it ‘Henry’ or ‘he’) has wedged itself on a chair leg and I have to trail back to untangle it.

Or the flex has become entwined in the banisters and I have to struggle back downstairs to release it, carting said vacuum with me. And all the while, I’m being stared at by that unrelentingly cheery look.

The origins of the face are, according to Wikipedia (that source of all accurate information) to ‘prevent late night and early morning workers from feeling lonely.’ Created and built in the UK, it first started sucking up dust in 1981. If there were such a crime as violence towards inanimate objects, what might the incidence rate have been before that date and after? A sharp rise, most likely.

Described variously as ‘iconic’, ‘loveable’ and a ‘legend’ by the manufacturers, Numatic, Henry has been joined by other family members. There is a Hetty, whose contribution to equality of the sexes is a pink body and large fluttery eyelashes. Whether this subtle femininity would help me contain my bursts of anger I can only conjecture. There are also Henry’s cousin’s Charles, James and George and probably, before long, a Boris, a Kier and a Sir David.

Perhaps part of the problem is that the vacuum cleaner is only in use when I’d rather be doing something else. It might be the result of a three-line whip to clean the house, often in preparation for a cleaner coming. The house apparently mustn’t be too dusty or untidy for such visits.

Or it’s a displacement activity. Like when I’m agonising over writing a particularly troublesome paragraph. Getting out the vacuum cleaner to suck up a cobweb that’s been irritating me for months is one way of escaping the frustration of writer’s block, at least temporarily. But it means I’m already predisposed to rage. It inevitably erupts when, perched on a chair and stretching, the nozzle doesn’t quite reach, the face topples and I lose my balance, leaving me on the floor alongside that face baiting me., still grinning.

Perhaps the answer is a cordless vacuum cleaner. My experiences have not been good, though. Scarred in my youth by a Pifco cordless, a Ewbank, and a battery driven cleaner that neither cleaned nor lasted long enough to manage a rug, I am left deeply distrustful.

A recent arrival is an Amazon Robotic Vacuum Sweeper. Like a floor-mounted drone, it buzzes across the kitchen and aggregates an alarming amount of dust and detritus, no matter how many times the floor may have been swept already. But although spared the Henry face, it still drives me mad, demanding attention. Its apparently random movements and wild trajectories make escape from it like some futuristic game of dodge ball.

And if you leave it to its own devices, it’s quite likely to fall down a step or trap itself on some unlikely obstruction. Then, like an ostrich stuck in a corner, it will bounce endlessly from side to side until it’s rescued. I want to punish it for its stupidity, pick it up, shake it, except that’ll result in all the dust its collected returning to the floor.

But the truth is, I guess, I just hate housework.

And at this point, I was planning on concluding that I should acknowledge the efficiency with which these devices have the desired effect of cleaning dusty surfaces and it’s really all my fault. That the problem is mine, not Henry’s.

Then I changed the end and decided to suggest that maybe the manufacturers of Henry, Hetty and the rest could help me out by creating a different face; one that is responsive to my mood, offering me an expression that is non-patronising, sympathetic and understanding.

Then I changed my mind and went for an excoriating paragraph on anthropomorphism, that a face on a vacuum is entirely inappropriate. I’m quite justified in my ire, I was going to write. But then again, isn’t that a sign of personal weakness . . . ?

At which point, I concluded it was all just too problematic to find a decent end and  . . . if I’m not mistaken, is that not a sliver of dust under the sofa? Excuse me while I go and fetch the Henry . . .

If you enjoyed this blog, maybe you’ll enjoy my first novel ‘Homeward Bound’, a feelgood tale of family, ageing and ambition. Available from bookshops, Amazon (paperback and e-book) and other online retailers.

Every home needs two dishwashers

“Two dishwashers? Why do you need two dishwashers?”
That was the question the lady designing our new kitchen asked me.
It struck me that if she was any good at kitchen design, she’d know the answer.

“Two dishwashers? Why do you need two dishwashers?”

That was the question the lady designing our new kitchen asked me. It struck me that if she was any good at kitchen design, she’d know the answer. But I could tell from the way she was staring at me, she was waiting for an answer.

“You take plates from cupboards, cutlery from drawers and glasses from shelves and use them for a meal,” I patiently explained.

“Yes.”

“When you’ve finished, you put them in the dishwasher.”

“Yes.”

My wife was rolling her eyes as she knew where I was going with this. Our designer manifestly did not.

“You wait until it’s full, then turn it on and when it’s finished, you take out the plates and put them back in the cupboards, the cutlery back in the drawers and the glasses on the shelves.”

“So?”

I think I hoped for a sign of recognition. Instead there was a blank expression with a soupçon of impatience. My wife just stared daggers at me.

“So next time you have a meal, you go back to the cupboard for the plates . .”

My wife interrupted. “I think we’ve got that.”

I needed to complete the cycle. “But with two dishwashers, next to each other, of course, you cut out all that unloading, putting away, fetching out again. You leave the clean stuff in one dishwasher until it’s needed, then take it out, use it and . .”

“. . .  put the dirties back into the second dishwasher. I get it now.”

“Exactly. And when dishwasher two is full, you turn it on and dishwasher one becomes the place where the dirties go.” I was pleased she didn’t pick up on the one flaw in my plan; what happens when you’re mixing dirties with unused cleans.

“What a good idea.”

And so the dual dishwashers were integrated into the new kitchen plan. It would make shelf, cupboards and drawers in the original scheme redundant. For the moment, I kept secret my hopes for using them as overflow storage for my records and CDs.

And so the dual dishwashers were integrated into the new kitchen plan. It would make shelf, cupboards and drawers in the original scheme redundant. For the moment, I kept secret my hopes for using them as overflow storage for my records and CDs.

Photo: Kimi Gill for Islington Faces

What has fascinated me is that no-one else seems to have cottoned on to this idea. I did a quick Google check and could find no manufactures that have created a double dishwasher, though surely there’s need for a new products with a unique design in a crowded market. Nor have retailers seized the moment to sell two instead of one to every customer. I offer them the concept. It could be my small contribution to helping the UK out of recession.

Inevitably this has led to me to re-evaluate other ‘givens’ of domestic life.

A full plate and plentiful supply of a good red is one not to change. And somewhere warm and safe to sleep is essential. The sofa with the TV on or music playing is as good a place as any.

But if we must have beds, why do we need to ‘make’ them?

If it’s straightened sheets and pillows you’re after, why not do it before you go to bed rather than waste time and energy in the morning, especially when there’s already the tedious routine of shaving for men and make-up for women. Though I’d go one further and say why bother make the bed at all. The sheets will be crumpled up within minutes of getting in anyway.  When the reaper comes calling, how much of your life will have been wasted making beds – smoothing sheets, hospital corners, plumping pillows and all? And if you really feel the need for crisp, cold sheets, tightly tucked down, then make it a treat to look forward to every couple of months when you change the bed or go on holiday and have hotel staff do it for you.  

And don’t get me on duvets and duvet covers. I had an eiderdown as a child. It needed no constant wrestling with a cover, just pulled up over me at night. No-one admits to inventing the duvet but its popularity in the UK seems to have arisen as some sort of fashion statement, when we were in the thrall of Habitat and Laura Ashley on every High Street. And where are they now, though we persist with the duvet?

And then there are cushions. What are they for? Show me a house with cushions and I’ll show you the influence of a woman. No male that I know would even consider buying a cushion, let alone festoon sofas and – worse still – beds with them.

But back to my genius dishwasher idea. I’d put it out of my mind to concentrate on writing Homeward Bound,  though I did get the occasional twinge about whether it would work and was I being a mite extravagant, decadent even.

I needn’t have worried. There was a late change. When the old kitchen was just a shell, I was informed that there was insufficient space in the new one for two dishwashers. And anyway, the plumbing couldn’t be adjusted to accommodate them both. I might have protested, but my wife and the designer presented the news as a fait accompli.

So we have a new kitchen but just one dishwasher, and I spend probably twice as long a week in the cycle of dishwasher-storage-dishwasher-storage as I do making the bed and plumping up cushions (though luckily I’ve never mastered the duvet, so that’s a task avoided).

But if you like the dual dishwasher idea, feel free to use it.

As for me, my disappointment was mitigated somewhat by an unexpected addition to the kitchen, one that required minimal space and no extra pipework; a wine chiller. And I couldn’t argue against that.

Richard Smith’s novel ‘Homeward Bound’ is out now and available from bookshops and Amazon (paperback and e-book).

A version of this blog first appeared during Rachel’s Random Books Tour

Five recommended books, self-isolating or not!

Looking for something to read? Five new books explore the experience, opportunities and issues of ageing, each bringing a unique take on the subject.

Hazel Prior Away With The Penguins is about a cantankerous but charming woman, her estranged grandson and a colony of penguins. (Amazon/Waterstones/ebook)

Richard SmithHomeward Bound follows a 79-year-old musician who is expected to be in retirement but isn’t ready to close the lid on his dreams, and his 18-year-old granddaughter, who shares his house and the dreams he once had. (Amazon/Waterstones/ebook)

Salley VickersGrandmothers is the story of three very different women and their relationships with the younger generation. (Amazon/Waterstones/ebook)

Francis LiardetWe Must Be Brave explores the fierce love that we feel for our children and the power of that love to endure. (Amazon/Waterstones/ebook)

Anne Youngson Meet Me At The Museum is a celebration of long letters, kindred spirits and the possibility of writing a new story for yourself, at any stage of life. (Amazon/Waterstones/ebook)

Click on the links for more information and where to buy them online (if your local bookshop is closed and can’t deliver to you). Amazon offers ebooks as well as hard copies. The e-book link is to a Google site. There are other links to the ebooks (like kobo) that need a sign in to a free account.

All the books were part of the Age UK Camden Literary Festival in March 2020.

This post first appeared on richardsmithwrites.com

Homeward Bound

What’s it all about?’

Tara is eighteen. She’s a musician, about to start uni and hoping for her lucky break. George is seventy-nine. As Tara’s grandfather, he’s expected to be in retirement but in truth, he’s not quite ready to close the lid on his dreams.

When he finds himself on a tour of retirement homes instead of the cream tea at the seaside his family had promised, it seems his story might prematurely be over.

He finds an answer by inviting Tara to share his house, along with his memories and vast collection of vinyl records. He thinks he can teach her about music. She just wants to get on with her own life.

What unfolds are clashes and unlikely parallels between generations – neither knows how to work a dishwasher – as they both chase their ambitions. But when the past catches up with George, Tara has to make the same life-changing decisions her grand-father faced six decades before.

Where you can buy Homeward Bound

It’s published by Matador in paperback, RRP £10.99, and on Kindle ISBN: 9781838591595 online as well as all good bookshops.

What people are saying about it

Blogger What Rebecca’s ReadHomeward Bound is a funny, feel-good read that I’d highly recommend.’

Helen Tovey (Family Tree): ‘Blurbed as a story telling of the ‘clashes and unlikely parallels between the generations’ this novel caught my eye, and what unfolded was a poignant, very believable story, laced with reminiscences (particularly if you’re a music lover you’ll enjoy the references), twists in the plot, and loveable and interesting key characters in Gramps and granddaughter Tara. An enjoyable read that reminds us of the passing of time and the value of family.’

Selection of initial comments from Amazon, Waterstones and Goodreads

Peter W

 ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Very enjoyable read

I really enjoyed this book. Although it will clearly appeal to music fans of my generation (over 65) who will appreciate the way Richard skillfully weaved the many music references into the story, the book will appeal to younger readers too. The central premise that young people should take every opportunity to follow their dreams is very poignant. It wouldn’t take much to turn this book into a film script.

R Mackinney

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ It was amazing Fun interesting warmly written book really enjoyed it and love the fact that there is also a Spotify playlist of all the music references available on the author’s website

Mr G.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ A pleasure to read whether as a reflection on life or a distraction from it!

A pleasure to read whether as a reflection on life or a distraction from it! Well done Mr Smith on your debut. (Format: Kindle Edition)

Chris O

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ A Great Read

Once you have started reading this book it’s hard to put down. It’s an excellent first novel with some great music references and some important messages- not least , the close relationship between two people from very different generations who have a lot more in common than they might think and the importance of having a purpose in life and taking a few risks to follow your dreams. Looking forward to the next one !

CherylWillis

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Lovely poignant novel

I really enjoyed this novel, amusing and sad all rolled into one.

Mr. S. J. Thorpe

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Great Page Turner!

When I started to read this book I didn’t really know what to expect but I very quickly became immersed in the narrative of two people united in their love for music. You get no spoilers from me but needless to say the characters are likeable and their journey is both fascinating and poignant. Highly recommend you invest some time with this novel, you won’t regret it!

Eco bunny

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Real page-turner

This book is a lot of fun – I read it in two days, finding it hard to put down. Richard Smith’s dialogue is fantastic! It’s a family drama, but will be especially good for anyone who loves music as they are sure to enjoy the parallel experiences a grandfather and his granddaughter adjust to the next stage of their lives. If you enjoyed “Elizabeth is Missing” or “The 100 year old man who climbed out the window and disappeared” then you’ll like this. Humane, witty, super-readable, enjoy.

fusionchuckle

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Wonderful first novel

What a wonderful first novel. The main character George is a loveable chap and his relationship with his granddaughter is heartwarming. Great read, looking forward to reading more from Richard Smith.

Peter Thombs

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Music lovers, enjoy! Reviewed in the United Kingdom on 25 February 2020Format: PaperbackVerified Purchase A wonderful book which took the reader on a special journey. A simple but well written story line with a musical treasure trove of memories. Couldn’t put it down.

Becky

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ It was amazing

I got this book as a gift and found it really enjoyable and hard to put down. It’s a story of music, relationships, dreams and realities.
The author managed to bring the characters to life in a way that had me totally invested – I was really annoyed by one character’s actions, which to me is a sign of a well-written book.
I really enjoyed the musical references too; some I recognised from my parent’s era, some were current that I knew and some I looked up on the book’s Spotify (available from author’s blog page) which brought the story to life further! I’d definitely recommend it and think it could also be a good one for book groups too – lots to discuss

Pat Cooper

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Couldn’t put it down

This is such an enjoyable read . The main characters are warm and believable. You feel for George and Tara and want them to be happy . The book is full of musical memories which was an added enjoyment . Overall a book about love and family and well worth reading . I am sure to read it again , I enjoyed it so much .

Claire Smith

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Engaging work from a new author

Heart-warming but not sentimental story dealing with the issues of older age and inter-family relationships particularly that of a teenage girl and her grandfather. It is told with a wry sense of humour.
Also great for people who love music as lots of references to familiar songs but all within the context of a well developed storyline. Made me dig out my old record collection and reflect on the power of music in life; and how complex and interesting family relationship are.