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Friday, April 11, 2025

Mistakes? I’ve Made a Few

The blog I wrote recently about trying to ward off dementia has reminded Caroline of some things I did in the past that caused her concern as to my acuity.  

As generous as ever, she has been kind enough to remind me of them so that I may share them with you.

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A day or so after we moved into this house in 2012, Caroline had gone to work and I went for a walk around the area to see what was here. When I got back home, I realised that I had gone out without my keys.  It was 10:30 in the morning and Caroline wasn’t due back for over seven hours.  I rang her to explain my predicament and an hour later, she arrived.  She did not look happy; in fact, she looked fairly cross.

“Why did you drop the latch?” she asked.

“What?  I didn’t.”

“You must have done or it wouldn’t be locked.  I left it up when I went.”

She pushed down on the handle and opened the door.  Without saying a word, she got back into her car and set off on the 18 mile trip back to Luton.  

She did say something about it that evening, though.

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We often go to Milton Keynes Theatre.  It frequently has shows that are about to open in the West End or are touring having just ended their West End run.  In January 2022, the theatre’s pamphlet arrived listing the shows later in the year.  Among others, I bought two tickets for a Sunday, ten months later in October, when the Glenn Miller Orchestra were performing.  

There’s a Chinese restaurant next to the theatre and so that evening we ate there, leaving at 7:10 to be in our seats for the start.

It was all surprisingly quiet at the theatre and it wasn’t until we saw a poster that I realised that the only performance that day was the matinee and that had ended some two hours ago.

Oops!

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I will not go into the details of how I once spent two painful hours on my knees, taking apart and reassembling the unit that powered a string of dysfunctional solar powered festoon lights, only to discover that the cable had been severed - almost certainly by Caroline’s over-enthusiastic pruning.

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Yet again this year, I failed to back the winner of The Grand National.  I am not a great follower of horse racing and like many people, virtually the only time I ever bet on a horse race is on the Grand National.

In Caroline’s opinion, the biggest error I have ever made in my life involved the Grand National.  In 2000, we chose four horses to back. 

One of the horses Caroline chose was Papillon, ridden by Ruby Walsh.

“No,” I said, confidently, “That will never win.  No female jockey has ever won the National and there have been a number who have tried.  They rarely even finish the race.  They always seem to fall, refuse or get pulled up.”  Reluctantly, Caroline chose a different horse.  

Papillon won at 10/1.  

How was I supposed to know that Ruby Walsh was actually a 20-year-old man named Rupert?  

The only Ruby I’d ever heard of was Ruby Murray and she was definitely a female singer.  The diminutive terms for Rupert are Roo or Rupe or possibly, Bert.  Certainly not Ruby!  

Every April for the past 25 years, I am reminded of that teeny weeny slip.

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I made a bit of a cock-up on Christmas Day 2013.  There were 14 of us for Christmas Dinner and I planned to serve it at 2 p.m.  

Our next door neighbour was spending Christmas in New Zealand and as our single oven was too small for roasting a 25 pound turkey, a joint of ham and lots of potatoes, he gave me his door key and told me I could use his oven as well.

The turkey would take 7 hours to cook and so at 6:30 a.m. on Christmas Day, I let myself into next door, set the oven temperature to 180°C and put the pre-prepared turkey into the oven.  The turkey would come out at 1:30 in the afternoon to rest for 30 minutes before I began carving.

At 11:30, after I’d made sure everyone had a drink, I went to check on the turkey.  

Disaster!  The oven was not on and it never had been.  I examined it and realised that there were two dials I should have turned.  All I had done was set the temperature.  I hadn’t turned the oven on.

That caused a few problems.

1 comment:

  1. That was an interesting read, thanks. However, I have to confess that I have made an even more embarrassing and expensive mistake.
    I booked two tickets for an opera at the Royal Opera House at about £200 each, for my husband’s birthday.
    When we arrived at the ROH it was quiet and something seemed odd. We checked the tickets and the date was a week before.
    So, I wasted more than £400 and made an unnecessary round-trip journey of about 220 miles.

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