Storms. Tea cups. Sex war.

In the kitchen cupboard the saucepans have no particular home. Often their lids are on a different shelf. There aren't enough cupboards and all of them are low, and require agility. This used to be a smug little pleasure of ours. Dance made us so flexible we would squat in complete comfort and hunt around re-uniting pans with lids and discovering reclusive colanders in the far reaches. Now it's all just too much.

Reaching for the lid I found myself hit by a wave of irrational outrage. Husbands take the kitchen scissors from the draw and don't return them. The salt and pepper in this house are never in the same place twice. And, it made me really, really angry. It was as if I was suddenly Woman and he was Man, and instead of being two people who share a kitchen, usually very cosily, we were at war.

Lately, I've given up searching for things in the kitchen. I just can't.
This is how I decide what I'm cooking lately - I look at what's in the dishrack. If I see a colander, I'll consider pasta, but I'm not going looking for it. Nuh Uh. Not this little washerwoman. Not this old fishwife. "Right", I say, when I spot a big pot with no lid, 'we'll be cooking a one pot wonder again tonight'.

Reaching for the lid I found myself hit by a wave of irrational outrage. Husbands take the kitchen scissors from the draw and don't return them. The salt and pepper in this house are never in the same place twice. And, it made me really, really angry. It was as if I was suddenly Woman and he was Man, and instead of being two people who share a kitchen, usually very cosily, we were at war.

Note to readers: Be very polite to your knees. When offended, they are incredibly spiteful and boy do they know how to hold a grudge.