When i look around my kitchen i see two obvious areas of friction which probably don't exist in your quiet. contemplative space. The first stands at the far end of the kitchen on the welsh dresser. It is a rather scuffed and battered Brigewater biscuit barrel, scarred by many episodes of contact with the floor by over- zealous children.
I have noticed an interesting phenomenon. Rather like the reverse of the magician pulling rabbits out of a hat, i carefully unwrap a packet of biscuits and empty them into the tin. However, the next time i come to open the tin i invariably find that all the biscuits have disappeared. This magical occurrence happens whether i am in the house or not, even in the same room or not. I never witness the perpetrator in action and it seems to make no difference whether they are handmade gingersnaps, expensive little french affairs or value packets of bourbon biscuits (indeed i still haven't decided whether there is any loss in quality between an upper class boubon and its value equivalent). To this end, i am considering writing to Emma Bridgewater with a request for a modification to be made to the said biscuit barrel. I would like the addition of a sound- activation so that on removal of the lid a voice bellows "STAND AWAY FROM THE TIN". This might give me time to save the day, or at least the biscuits.
The other point of friction most noticeable is the second fruit bowl. This is a large bowl on top of the microwave which houses only one product - Bananas. The reason for this is that when left with their friends they seem to ripen with amazing speed - great if you like them that way, and foodies always seem to be trying to convince us that this is the true way to eat a Banana. But, in our house we like them spotless and yellow. If even the slightest brownness is detected it will be cut out or the whole banana disregarded. You try reasoning with a four year old over this issue. I have partly managed to deal with too infrequent shopping trips by the introduction of a particularly naff-looking item from Lakeland which seems to work (much to my aesthetic side's disgust). This is a kind of mini bright yellow duvet for Bananas which cossets them in the fridge and seems to prevent the onset of brown bits. Once you get over the idea that it reminds you of cheap nylon puffa jackets and concentrate on the time saved, it becomes a modern miracle.
I see you're dining on "a slithery, cold noodle salad" today, and i'm in no mood to cook as i'm on my own. Difficult to rouse the motivation for one at times. The last time i had a day like this, i found myself eating a whole tin of artichoke hearts straight out of the tin. And it was bliss. Heston, eat your heart out.