Vests

It is , I believe , a common experience for socks to go missing. This results in a collection of odd socks in the sock drawer. I’m always reminded of a picture Frances had on her wall as a teenager. It shows a young man gazing soulfully into the distance. Captioned “teenage angst” the thought bubble from the young man says “ I feel like a lost sock in the laundromat of oblivion”.

My cunning solution is to buy socks in roughly identical batches. This drives Annette trying to match after washing to distraction but I  know I can mix without problems. The fact that the toes are different colours doesn’t worry me  (or anyone else ).

Now I have a different problem. My stock of vests has dwindled to one. Where all the others have gone is a big puzzle. I know I’m a bit forgetful and disorganised but vests always live in one place. Annette can’t find them either. She is far more organised than me; in fact my usual cry is “I can’t find…” knowing she probably can.

I’m not a terribly disorganised person usually. My first job was in a sense a job of organising scientific information and I think I made a fair fist of it. At any rate good enough to stay in employment although thinking back they did organise a secondment from which I never returned… perhaps they were dropping a gentle hint.

Finding things is a general problem. For me and I guess for many others. I suppose I haven’t helped myself as gardening and outdoor tools are split between garage, garden cabin and shed. I can never remember what is where.

I do have routines for some things like keys. As I smugly say to Annette when she is searching for her keys- “.I always put mine in the same place so I know where they are”. I half recognise this is both irritating and no help.

It brings to mind “Have a go” an early radio quiz show. Compere Wilfred Pickles had a much used question along the lines- “If you could say to your spouse I love you darling, but…. What would the but be?” Answers were usually comical along lines of “ I wish you wouldn’t squeeze the toothpaste tube in the middle”. Mine varies but probably I wish she didn’t  at any time shortly after 9 announce she is tired and going to bed. When I finally retire I usually read for a while. At least she leaves the light on for me.

I wonder if you can get coded vests. Just discreetly coded not like the brash socks with slogans on them like Mr Happy. I suppose the joke message socks are usually desperate Christmas presents. My vest problem is too desperate to wait until Christmas. Anyway who wants vests as a Christmas present?

Another thing – we have probably all become irritated by “words of wisdom” which aren’t really that wise, or at any rate often impossible. You know the sort of thing- If life treats you like a lemon make lemonade.

I’ve come across an amusing take on an Oxfam slogan

Give a man a fish and he eats for a day
Teach a man to fish and he eats for lifetime
Give a man a fire and he is warm for a day
Set a man on fire and he is warm for the rest of his life.