A Waste of Money

Caroline and I agree on most things and the things about which we disagree are never a real source of conflict.  If we ever have a disagreement, I find that once I’ve put my case again, succinctly and carefully, she will realise that she was wrong all along and any tension that there was between us, disappears.

Sometimes, even though I know that I am right and completely justified in the position I have taken, I relent and we do something that she wants and I don’t.  And, I’m not talking about anything trivial here like what we watch on television, although sometimes our interests in that respect seem to be so wildly at odds that I marvel at what a tolerant and agreeable person I have become.  I sat through the last series of “Bake off” in silence but through gritted teeth and surely that exemplifies my point?

However, there is a subject that is a perennial source of disagreement.  About twice a year we quarrel about holidays.  The argument is never about where we should go on holiday but about whether we should go away on a holiday at all.  I am always forced to concede and to lose that argument. 

Caroline, and other other people too, tells me that the thing about holidays is the “memories” but that is just nonsense.  Memories, unlike a new television set, fade and anyway, memories are of no real worth.  “Experiences” are of value but they are not the same thing at all as memories.

A few years ago my birthday was on a Saturday and Caroline decided that we would go away for the weekend.  We stayed in a hotel with a Michelin starred restaurant in Castle Coombe in Wiltshire.  I quickly calculated that the weekend was going to cost something in excess of £400 and I considered that was a lot of money to spend on sheer self-indulgence. 

“Would you like me to list all the better things we could spend £400 on?” I asked Caroline.  “Things that would be of lasting value and importance?” 

Caroline said that she wouldn’t so I didn’t.  But I did make a mental list of things we needed and that included a new vacuum cleaner as ours was on its last legs.   A vacuum cleaner would last for several years but a weekend away lasted, well…. just two days.

My memory of our trip to Castle Coombe was that it was very pleasant and I enjoyed it but I have no memory at all of what we did on the Saturday afternoon and no recollection of what we ate at dinner in the Michelin starred restaurant that evening.  However, I do have a memory of the bill.  I can remember it because it is seared on my mind: £460! 

The most expensive Which? “Best Buy” vacuum cleaner is £319.  See what I mean?  Point proven!

Three weeks ago something happened to my arthritic ankle.  Previously, as long as I could rest it every 100 paces or so, I could walk quite long distances.  Even a thirty-minute walk around the vast spaces of our local Sainsbury’s was possible.  But that is a thing of the past because now I need to use my walking stick at all times, even in the house.  

My ankle joint has suddenly deteriorated and become so painful that even a trip to the kitchen is only undertaken if it is absolutely essential.  Going upstairs to bed at night is a slow, painful exercise.  I am scheduled to have surgery on it in July and I hope things will be better afterwards.

A consequence of my severe incapacitation is that it will allow us to test my assertion that money spent on a holiday is of less real value than buying tangible, material goods. 

For several months we have been looking forward to a trip to New York in June.  It is our last opportunity to visit Caroline’s sister and her family before they return to the UK in August after spending the last two years in the States. 

We have had to cancel the trip and we are both very disappointed indeed.  New York, like London, is a city best seen from the pavement and I can’t “do” pavements anymore.  Thankfully, Caroline saw the plus side of this enforced change in our plans almost immediately. 

“We can get the house decorated,” she said.

Since we moved into our house four years ago, the walls of our hall, stairway and landing have been a rather unpleasant mustard yellow and the paintwork on all the wooden surfaces is tired, cracked and peeling.  We have vowed for four years to get it all fixed when we can afford it.  Now, thanks to my painful injury and travel insurance, we can. 

We have had three decorators round to give estimates and they have all quoted less than the money we will recoup for the cancelled air fares and hotels.

The best part is that we will enjoy the benefit of that expenditure for years and years and not just for 12 days.

Now I’m thinking about what else we spend money on that is self-indulgent and wasteful. 

I suppose that there’s always Christmas….