Fixing it

Photo on 4-12-18 at 8.26 PMThe light shone brightly this evening when I was baking and the scales broke. My scales are these lovely old English ones with weights in both grams and ounces (or “ozzes” as Ruby used to call them). I had just finished remarking that baking is a contemplative art (yeah/nah, but it was words to that effect), and I thought how people missed out when all they had to do was chuck something onto a digital scale with the weight preset. I love adding a little more flour, scooping off the excess and generally just dribbling around (can’t you tell?) I had no sooner finished all my weighing when the scales came apart. It’s not a big deal because they are made so that they can be stored away but you do have to know what you’re doing. I attached all the pieces and stood back to admire my handiwork which was the lightbulb moment. With so little in the world to fix, is it any wonder the young people of today feel overwhelmed and anxious? We spent our lives tweaking TV aerials, and thumping the side of the telly when it didn’t go. We had cars that constantly needed fixing and we mended our clothes. All I can think of that a kid could fix now would be a puncture in a bike tyre. It’s a great feeling to succeed at something small. Somehow the world makes a bit more sense when we’ve changed the light bulb or filled the kitchen with the smell of baking. It’s “doing” that will cure this epidemic of anxiety amongst our young. ┬áThem shoving the world back into its place with a bit of hard yakka and a sideways stretch of the brain.

Photo on 4-12-18 at 8.26 PM


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