Random Acts of Kindness for the Domestically Challenged

I dig Nigella Lawson. I really do. She’s my kind of domestic goddess.

From flikr.com
Saima’s photostream

Firstly, Nigella has a Master’s degree and secondly, she has had a succesful career as a journo, freelance writer and now cookbook author and television star. Most importantly, she seems real. If you ever watch her cooking shows, there’s something about them that makes you think you can do what Nigella does – you can raise children, have a meaningful career, cook interesting and nutritious food, be a real woman with body flaws and still laugh at life. I’m not sure whether it’s the real close, fast moving camera angles or the way Nigella throws in the ingredients with such aplomb and generally without measurement or much genteel preparation, but I think I could do a Nigella… but only just.

You may remember that about a month ago I wrote of my reluctance inability to co-ordinate colour, furniture and furnishings in my home. I’m afraid that nothing has changed in my abilities since.

What has changed though is that in the last couple of weeks I have become the proud owner of a new planter and new bathroom storage accessories in the form of a glass liquid soap dispenser and matching toothbrush holder. The planter appeared whilst I was on my recent road trip and now proudly holds a plant that has since produced two flowers. The bathroom accessories were given to me by an acquaintance who has been in my home many times to replace my plastic objects d’bath.

Two random acts of kindness to help me overcome my domestic challenges. Even the flowering plant seems happy!

I am now wondering whether my domestic happlessnes is so evident for all to see. Seriously, do these wonderful and kind people who gave me these gifts see a need that I haven’t fulfilled? Do they know what my house requires before even I have anticipated its needs? Am I that domestically inadequate that I need people to buy me practical gifts? What’s the message here?

The plastic thingies in the bathroom have worked perfectly fine until now. OK, the container that held the toothbrushes was a little cracked from the time when one son or other used the vessel for soccer practice and the plastic soap dispenser was off the shelf supermarket, circa 2009, but really…what was wrong with them? As for the planter, it has elevated the poor plant off the floor and I am told it catches the water from watering. It does look good and suited to the room it is in.

To these wonderful people who bought me these gifts I thank you. However, I never know how to take practical gifts. Also, it wasn’t my birthday or any special occasion. I don’t mean to be ungrateful but is it just my paranoia and domestic goddess insecurity that thinks there’s a double meaning here?

Whilst I ponder this question, I think I’ll whip up a quick batch of Nigella’s Instant Chocolate Mouse and go contemplate my antidomestic goddess afterlife.

I have to ask …. how do you feel about practical gifts?

G is for Gift Horse: Looking Right Down The Mouth (#atozchallenge)

photo from flikr-too far north's photostream

When is a gift not really a gift?

I am pondering this question after a small moment of unexpected euphoria crept in this week during a shopping expedition for furniture. Happily, this was not my shopping expedition, but one for a family member – I was merely the chauffeur.

Furniture shopping fills me with dread. It’s such a big responsibility. How many times in one’s lifetime do you buy a hall table, buffet, coffee table, television cabinet all coordinating to match? What happens if the wood grain or stain doesn’t match the rest of the decor? How do I tell the difference between my oaks, teaks and my walnuts and should one mix their cherry with their maple? Questions, questions….always questions.

Given that I was the not the major player in this expedition I was fairly relaxed.  There were no decisions for me to make other than which voice would be barking directions from the GPS. I am happy to report that all went well and the furniture was dutifully purchased. The furniture though came with a “gift”.

The sales assistant proudly explained that she would provide a gift certificate for accommodation to the value of some thousands of dollars. Let me reassure you this was not the motivation for the furniture purchase as were unaware of the offer until the decision point had been reached. My family member advised that she would give the certificate to me as a thank you for driving her that day as she had no need for it. In my head I was off and running on my dream holiday to an exotic island location with hula boys, crystal blue waters, fine white sand, colourful alcoholic drinks with paper umbrellas, plastic monkeys and maraschino cherries.

Not so fast! The slippery slide into the realm of the ridiculous beckons:

Step 1: decent from overseas paradise to local – the accommodation is for Australia only. Fade out the hula boys, but OK, there is much of the country left to see.

Step 2: Decent from local to weekend whirlwind – the accommodation is for a maximum of two night’s stay. Well crumbs, who stays somewhere only for two nights unless it is for a family funeral or business trip? Maybe we could tack on some extra nights and make it a true getaway. That’s going to cost something, my wallet is starting to weep just a little.

Step 3: Decent from local weekend whirlwind to the ridiculous – to get the accommodation you have to pay for breakfast and dinner for each person for each night. Really? Have you seen the price of hotel food lately? Captive meal audience amounts to hotel funny money rip-off. And the gift requires the purchase of not one, but two meals per day!

 At this point I feel I am looking the gift horse squarely in the mouth and can see not only its tonsils, but its digestive tract as well! And I haven’t even started with the registration, booking and administration required to claim the “gift”.

Of course, these sorts of schemes are designed with people like me in mind. The profit comes from breakage, meaning unredeemed gift certificates. These companies make the initial offer sound irresistible and then litter the path of redemption with obstacles to the point where the offer is only for the truly tenacious.

I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but this is just one asterisk too many. Whatever happened to the good old days when the gift was a real and tangible set of steak knives? Or better yet, no gift, but proper pricing?

Beware the horse bearing gifts for he shall put you to work.  Maybe if I had the steak knives I could cut through all of those conditions…