Domestic problems

Sonia Kelly

IN spite of repeated consultations with domestic experts, many insolvable problems remain in my house – certainly in the kitchen. Why, oh why, for instance, do so many things have to be hermetically sealed, especially things which have to keep being renewed, like olive oil? There has to be some way of undoing the cap other than attacking it with a carving knife and trying to prise off the holding strip at the base so that it will unscrew. When (if) it eventually comes away the remaining edges of the cap are then so jagged that taking it off can result in a mortal wound.

Can it be that my wrists are too feeble for the Herculean task of twisting it off in a freehold manner? The same question applies to the opening of jam jars. To remove their lids it’s necessary to ram the point of the knife up under the rim until a pop is heard, after which unscrewing is easy. This takes a lot less time than the oil bottle and may only result in the loss of a thumb if the knife slips. Certain tins can be extremely problematical, too, particularly the ring-pull ones. There are various possibilities attendant upon their opening. The top of the finger inserted into the ring may be amputated, the ring may come off, rendering the contents inaccessible, or it may pull back with a flourish that ejects the contents into your face.

And plastic bags are still a problem in more ways than one. Why do the people who seal them have to tie the knots as though they were anchoring ships? Quite apart from having to preserve them for storing the weekly supply of cat rations in, it has become a matter of pride to get them open intact – a resolution which can take up to half an hour and result in severe jabs from a scissors. But having eventually managed to open a bag, it is sometimes impossible to get the contents out, especially if they’re mushrooms. It seems quite logical to turn the bag upside down and shake it. But the mushrooms remain in situ when this is done, the bag in the process getting tied in more knots until either apoplexy or insanity is imminent.

Still on the opening theme, a packet of biscuits might seem fairly innocuous. Until, that is, you decide to bring one to bed in case féar gortach sets in. Well, come that eventuality, it quickly becomes apparent that they, too, are hermetically sealed in their plastic wrapping. As one does not normally bring a scissors to bed, the only option seems to be a dental assault on the shiny cover. It’s no good. Only a shark would be equal to the task. But will sleep prevail over hunger pangs ...

And the telephone cord remains twisted since mentioning this before. How is it possible that every time one picks the receiver up and untwists it, the exact same twist re-emerges next time? One never twists the instrument, so just what malign influence is at work? Suggestions, please.

Then there’s the question of bin bags. My bin is a big round drum and somewhere out there in the ether are big black drawstring bags that fit it exactly. Where have they gone? On offer to-day are big ones without drawstrings that have to be knotted (awkward and messy), small ones with drawstrings (don’t fit), white ones, deep, but not wide, that have to be affixed to the sides with clothes pegs, which frequently vanish into the bag, necessitating a rummage through the unsavoury conglomerate. And a great many curses.

Another problem, which might seem unusual, is to get a book to stay open in order to read it. I like to read while eating and have a book stand for the purpose, but very few books will sit on it without being wrenched open and beaten flat every time a page is turned.

Which situation only adds to the numerous impediments to actually getting a bite to eat.