I think aprons exert a thoroughly positive influence in the world — and mine especially would if I remembered to wear them.
Only this lunchtime I had to wash a sleeveless cardigan I got chocolate on (and that was after having successfully removed the coleslaw I dropped on it; we had moved on to our dessert), and just a couple of days ago I spilt some porridge on a yellow top, and had to take it straight off and thoroughly wash the mark out to prevent it becoming a stain. But this is my own fault entirely because I like eating sitting in an armchair with my family instead of at the table in the front room (which I do when I'm alone), and because I forget to put on my apron.
I have had one of those cross-back Japanese-style aprons (like this) for a long time, but it drives me wild because it slips off my shoulders when I bend down to weed the garden or fill up buckets or whatever. So I bought three 1940s-style aprons from eBay. Like this.
That won't be slipping off any time soon, will it?
Perfect.
It's good for washing up and chores in general —
— but it is especially important to remember to put in on when I'm getting supper for the Meeps.
Here's Meep, standing on the water butt outside the window. He raps on the glass if we're tardy getting his tea, though he is a patient and good-natured bird in general.
Mrs Meep sometimes joins him on the water butts, or waits on the wood store roof (where we feed them) if she senses the moment drawing near.
Their food is revolting.
You can see why an apron is of paramount importance — cat food pouches and sardine tins both flick their noxious contents onto the unwary opener.
But they enjoy it immensely.
And they rely on us entirely. Meep was entrusted to us from childhood. His mother still watches fondly from the neighbours' roof, and exults in a victory cry when she sees Meep being given his breakfast and his supper.
But, oily fish . . . oh my . . .
It's what aprons were invented for.
8 comments:
Love the apron and love Meeps, what a fab name!! Whenever we see a lone seagull that pops by we say “hello uncle Bernard!” Daves uncle loved birds xx
Uncle Bernard is also an excellent name for a seagull.
:0D
I love aprons. I am an incredibly messy person. I took car of one of Beth's friends while her family where in New Zealand. When she had finished her competition when sent her off to join them. The girl brought me back an apron. Her mother was mortified. But the long lady was correct and I wore it to pieces.
The seagulls in Brighton were huge. I bet Meeps and co have a considerable appetite.
I should think an apron was just the perfect present.
Yes, the Brighton seagulls are herring gulls, the same as ours here in Hastings, and they are indeed large birds with correspondingly big appetites!
Many households along the coast here have been adopted by their own pair of seagulls, who remain faithful to the connection, which they jealously protect.
We feed our crows in a different location in the garden from Mr & Mrs Meep, because crows and seagulls are both highly territorial, and there have been arguments at times. But feeding them in different places allows an uneasy truce.
We have a similar relationship with our magpies. These birds can be very territorial and quite vicious in breeding season. Our birds are fed year round and they do not swoop or attack.
When I was young there was a terrible pair next to the Anglican Church. Now these were brave birds because they nested between the church and the police station. One Sunday the police must have had enough of the screaming kids. These were the days when we walked to church on our own and mum and dad generally stayed at home. Most of us were sent to church this way. Anyway there were two services and youth of children's Sunday school in between. So we had braved the going into the church for youth group and went to church after as we were expected too. Next thing in the intercessions there were two bangs. No more nasty birds. One police actually broke the law as our city is a bird sanctuary.
RIP those magpies! They pushed their luck, didn't they!
I always wear an apron in the kitchen, and I have spare aprons for helpers, but most other people think aprons are just a quaint old idea. One Christmas I made a special apron for each of the young women in our family, but I think that Christmas Day was the only time they wore them. They like that I wear them, however, and I envision them going through my aprons after my funeral as they talk through their memories of me.
My most used apron is a sturdy plastic one I picked up in a souvenir booth in London, with a map of the Underground printed on it. It keeps my clothes very clean!
Those young women — when they are old and every single one of their tops has a little stain right in the middle of the front where they spilled something they were eating; and when everything they have has an annoying bleach mark on the midriff at the same height as the rim or the kitchen sink — suddenly the power of aprons will become clear to them.
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