Edition 2: Butter fingers!

Good morning Negative SoundByters and welcome to the second edition of NSB.

First a small wrap up of major events of geopolitical significance over the weekend:

The Irish Rugby Team secured their first ever win over the All Blacks in Chicago of all places. I didn’t watch it but apparently it was a brilliant advertisement for how rugby should be played and will no doubt broaden the appeal of the game in these far flung places – like the US of A! That’s if the US of A is still around in a few years – or all of us for that matter. I mean electing The Donald could lead to a total extinction event like what happened to the dinosaurs. Now there’s a happy thought!

And there is a new number one tennis player in the World – Andy Murray! Go Scotland Go! No – it’s Team GeeeeBeeee! Go Brexit! Go Nicola! Britannia rules! Ag whatever!

And of course my very own Springboks who managed to cobble together a draw at Wembley Stadium against the Barbarians, a team of primarily first team club players thrown together in about week. It felt like the motley crew was wearing the Green-and-gold as opposed to the Black-and-white. Eish.

Moving on swiftly:

You might think that this morning’s piece of literary brilliance would be dedicated to the up-coming election in the US given its potential impact on our all lives but I can’t bring myself to dedicate my very limited brain capacity to those two crooks so I won’t. This morning I prefer to write about butter instead.

Mrs H and I disagree on how a butter knife should be used. I like to use it to spread butter on my toast. That’s my morning ritual. Steaming cup of strong coffee alongside a piece of brown toast smothered in butter and honey.

In order to accomplish this simple task I will generally use a knife; not necessarily a butter knife mind you because we aren’t as posh as that, but your basic ordinary kitchen utility knife. Never a steak knife though. Have you tried to spread butter with a knife that has a serrated edge? Tricky at the best of times!

Of course the butter is located in a butter dish. Now it is perfectly feasible that when I make my first spread that some crumbs from the toast will attach themselves to my butter knife. This does not present me with an issue. I insert said knife back into the butter block, scrape up some butter and apply to toast. I repeat until toast is nicely covered in an even buttery layer.

It’s a simple process but there are two main issues that Mrs H has with this.

i) Residual crumbs from the toast are left behind on the butter block, which is obviously to be expected in my view. This is a serious offence in her mind. What am I to do? Clean the knife before each application…in your dreams lady!

“What did you just say Mr H?” “Er nothing Mrs H….” ”You don’t know which side your bread is buttered Mr H….?” “Er well I do actually…” ” You like hospital food Mr H…”

ii) I am indifferent as to how to my butter knife interacts with the butter block. Scrape. Stab. Pierce. Cut. Slice. Drag. Um….no…unacceptable Jim. Mrs H expects me to ensure that each right angle on the block is maintained at all times and that the butter is removed from one end only.

“I mean come on Mrs H; my toast is getting cold!” “I don’t want to hear it.”

It might be that it’s just me, but are all wives as protective over the butter block as Mrs H? Is a few toasted crumbs on the baked potato or mixed into the jam jar such a train smash? I mean its not like I have set her favourite Beatrix Potter tea cosy on fire. (Oh shit I actually did do that; complete accident. Beautifully brewed pot of Earl Grey Tea nearly had catastrophic consequences. My takeaway from that episode: always ensure to turn the gas off after making scrambled eggs and don’t leave flammable items on said hob.)

It’s a bit like when I forget to change the loo roll. Similar reaction. It’s not like I leave her stranded on purpose!

I suppose therein lies the magic of co-habiting. Give-and-take. Let the small things slide. Don’t sweat the big stuff. Compromise. Don’t for FS leave crumbs on the butter block; don’t set things on fire – and you know that cardboard roll with the white paper wrapped around it; make goddamn sure it is within close proximity of the throne otherwise there will be hell to pay or hospital food to take through a straw ☺

OUT!

Pic of the week:

Snapped this at the Tate Modern. It's quite stark; the couple contrast the rigidity of the objects around them.