Hello, everyone, my name is Horace and I’ve lived without a kitchen for five days.

Horace Camp
Jul 21, 2017 · 3 min read

It isn’t easy and I just live each day as it comes.I used my kitchen every day, often six or seven times a day, and I’ve been a kitchen user for over sixty years. For most of that time I was a passive user interested only in the output and not operational matters which were the department of my Mother and then my late wife.

The last decade has forced me into actively participating in kitchen duties where I’ve shown a preference for the creative rather than the maintenance side of kitchen work. Surprisingly I’ve found cooking a mildly pleasant pass time which helped the bond between kitchen and me to develop.

Unbeknownst to me, mostly because in ten years I never had any reason to open the cupboard under the sink, a leak developed. The insidious nature of water let it both rot the fine laminate covered chipboard and create a perfect environment for noxious bacteria.

Suffice it to say it got worse and became noticeable.

This why earlier this week men in protective suits and masks ripped my entire kitchen back to bare floor and walls. Then they blasted it with some super strength potion which according to the danger labels posted outside the kitchen door will kill certain parasites in ducks and many other things.

Because I am almost totally decrepit I rely on my grown up children for many things including packing everything up from kitchens that are about to be destroyed. They performed the task and everything I need to survive with utensil and cutlery based is securely boxed at the bottom of a huge stack of boxes where they are totally impossible for me to access.

They also do the regular weekly shop so I have a refrigerator, moved to the very hot conservatory, filled with choice cuts of meat which I have absolutely no way of cooking.

Day one saw me living off some French bread with the butter spread using an ice lolly stick which I had neglected, thankfully, to put in a bin after use.

Day two saw them take pity on me and provide me with a takeaway carbonara. By splitting the end of the lolly pop stick I managed to contrive a pretty pathetic fork which was just able to transport food from plastic tub to mouth.

Day three saw some cold cuts dropped off. By this time I’d developed a craving for vegetables so having secured a cucumber I fashioned a cucumber and chicken paste starter. Once again using the lollypop stick to scrape out the last of the chicken paste. The cucumber was wonderful, the Tesco value paste not so.

Day four was spent mostly gnawing cold chicken wings. For the first time I noticed the dogs and the cats were circling me and eyeing the chicken hungrily. Even though their biscuit bowls were overflowing, literally because I’m hopeless filling them up, they were obviously missing table scraps.

Well, damn their eyes, they are not getting any of my food. My precious, food. My precious…

Where was I, ah yes, we’ve reached day five. I found some salami at the back of the fridge so that was breakfast sorted. I’m not sure about lunch but those dog biscuits sound pretty nice and crunchy.

)

Horace Camp

Written by

A father of 3 and a grandfather of 1. Ex Farmer, Grower, B&B owner, Shopkeeper and Banker. Political and Financial columnist. I put the Fun in Fund Services

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