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Mental meanderings of an old man

A much needed guide for old farts (who still have it) about doing the wild thing past, present and future. With helpfull insight into the hurt and confusion that wasting 23 years on being married can bring.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Steak & Ale Pie.

I think its time to pack it in; it’s all over for me I think. This morning as I was whizzing round Asda three people asked me where things were and the sad thing is, I knew the isle, the shelf and what each item was next to. I’m usually in and out as quickly as possible and today would have been no exception, but I found myself stood in front of the tinned pie’s section staring at Fray Bentos stake & ale pies.

Most people can be jerked back to happier times or treasured memories by the sight, sound even smell of something, It could be the falling of petals from a cherry blossom tree as you walk down a quiet street. It could be the strains of a once shared love song that rekindles feelings you thought you had pushed to the back of your mind. Or perhaps the smell of nature reminds you of a day lying in a field of gold with someone special and making plans for a future that never came to be.

Well for me its bloody steak & ale pie, all the other reminders I mentioned probably happen every Preston Guild with other people, but my torture happens every time I go shopping at Asda. I normally avoid memory catalysts like the plague, but Asda is cheap, convenient and quick. I remember once they had a change round one week and I thought I had got away with it. But as I turned into another Isle expecting to see tins of Tuna and Salmon, there they were in a huge promotional display staring at me.
There was every type of pie that Fray Bentos make in a bleeding great ark around the biggest tin of steak & ale pie I have ever seen.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, that kind of thing is always happening to me, it’s my fate, it’s my destiny, I was born to suffer. I’m probably just too sentimental, as Kaz would say “An incurable romantic” In fact I know I am, it runs in the family. I can remember a long time ago calling at my Sisters hotel when she was over here from Spain visiting. Whilst waiting for her I noticed a house brick on the coffee table, I asked her where it had come from and she explained that she had taken it from the rubble of the house we had grown up in as a reminder from that happy time.

And you think I’m crackers?

Labels: asda, hotel, memories, Pie

posted by Dave G at 5:39 pm

2 Comments:

Blogger KAZ said...

Lovely post Dave

I read it carefully but no clue as to why the pie is so special.

Knowing you it's either complete *jackanory* or some really special woman from the past.

I lived on these pies in the 60s.

9:23 pm  
Blogger Dave G said...

Kaz Not jackanory my dear, but to reveal would be to break a confidence, and whatever else I might be, I am always a gentleman. That said I sometimes wish I wasn't, life would be so much more interesting.

12:07 pm  

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Previous Posts

  • This summers must see
  • Dave D aka Donkey D.
  • Patrick Broadhurst 1946-1975 16th March Angola
  • A friend in need.
  • Metal man.
  • Belly Button Blues.
  • Purple Rain.
  • Caveo, cautum, cavi
  • On beating bully's part two.
  • Desperate Dave

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