By now it’ll be obvious that we get around a bit, visiting here and there, eating here and there, and Mrs C puts various things on her hair, nails and skin in order to make herself even more beautiful.
But, what about life in Chateau C in general?  What really makes the house tick?

A recent addition to our kitchen inventory was a completely new experience for us; the ‘ceramic’ frying pan.  Now don’t laugh – this is deadly serious!  Few things nowadays fall worthy of special comment regarding kitchen stuff, but a recent impulse purchase while browsing the homeware section of our local Asda has revolutionised the whole cooking experience.

Non-Stick Frying Pan – pah!

At the risk of sounding like an advert, this is fantastic stuff!  You can literally cook almost anything, with little or no fat and there’s absolutely no mess.  It’s simply a case of rinsing off under warm water and a quick wipe dry, after which it’s like new again.  After years of using so-called ‘non-stick’ pans, I was resigned to the fact that eventually the lining would deteriorate and become as good as a steel plate over a bonfire.  But apparently, these things stay true, as long as they’re not abused and will resolutely refuse to have anything stick to them, no matter what!

Time will tell of course, but can you remember a day when you could fry an egg on a dry pan?  Nor me, until I found this little beauty.  Omlettes? No problem.  Pancakes, piece of cake! Steak? Give us a break!

So, what’s the downside?  For me – nothing!  But for Mrs C – well, let’s just say it’s an aesthetic one.  In a primarily yellow and grey kitchen, it appears that a bright red pan with the lining the same colour as Donald Trump’s hairpiece is obviously a major faux pas.  I’ve been using, cleaning and displaying our new toy proudly on the stove top for weeks, but I can see her wince whenever she switches the light on because of the horrible colour clash.  Personally I see it as ‘kitchen art’, worthy of its lofty place by virtue of the pleasure it brings when preparing dinner each day.  It complements the various 1980s pop and rock ballads that I lose myself in whilst doing so.

It would be a boring old world if we all liked the same things, wouldn’t it.  So I’m happy to live and let live with our respective choice of art and wouldn’t ever think to ‘pan’ her choices, even though red is dead.