The Landlady returns from Stoke with plenty of tins
I have recently returned from Stoke on Trent, where I orchestrated the letting-out of my late mother’s house. Of course, before it could be let out, the house had to be emptied of the 85-years-worth of stuff accumulated by my mother, father and, to some extent me, although she chucked out most of my stuff when I left home, as she was quite delighted to see the back of me.
Everything of any real value had already been auctioned, so all that remained was the furniture, books and clothes, all of which went to charity shops. My aunt (my mother’s only surviving sister) suffers from the onset of dementia and, when I told her that the house was due to be emptied, rushed in and snaffled all the remaining crystal and several sets of silver sugar tongs. She then spent the next five days phoning me, wracked with guilt, while I tried to tell her she’d done nothing wrong.
“My mother was certainly prepared for a Third World War”
My cousin, who is the executor of the will, would have a hissy fit if he knew, but I will be keeping quiet about it as my mum would have been happy for her sister to take a few bits and pieces. My uncle H and auntie E have also been in and taken a painting (worthless, as I was the artist), a nest of tables, a china blue-tit and another set of silver sugar tongs. Again, I’m keeping quiet, although I don’t understand this obsession with sugar tongs – am I missing something?
On my recent visit, I took a large suitcase with me, as I was only interested in one thing. The obscene amount of tinned food in the large pantry. Those of you with mothers who lived through the Second World War will know what I mean when I say that my mother was certainly prepared for a Third World War. The contents of the pantry filled two large (thankfully wheeled) suitcases, which were not a great deal of fun to transport on the train back to Brighton. The upside is that I shall not have to go shopping for a month.
There were 17 tins of baked beans, seven of spaghetti, four salmon, 15 of tinned fruits (all varieties) 14 macaroni cheese, four large tins of ham, seven corned beef and three of tongue. On top of all this, there was spaghetti and pasta galore, about 12 boxes of Weetabix, four large boxes of tea bags, various jars of sauce, pickle and jam (some of it clearly from some dubious Women’s Institute sale and therefore undated and decidedly toxic-looking) and enough stock-cubes to build a small house. Interestingly, although my mother possessed 14 pairs of sugar tongs, there was not a packet of sugar lumps to be found, but that’s old people for you.
