See the jar of mustard, right? That was chosen several days ago to illustrate this week's column. It was an indicator of my annual mustard audit.
Forget spring cleaning (well, don't actually)... I do winter cleaning too. I couldn't bear to have the twinkling lights from the Christmas tree reflecting on dusty shelves or smeared mirrors.
I like to take a week off just before Christmas to get all those irritating little jobs done, including the mustard audit.
Don't you find that you're wandering around the supermarket aisles and suddenly wonder whether you have a jar of Dijon in the cupboard to spoon into a dressing or sauce? Or maybe you plan a curry and panic that you might have used that last jar of ground cumin or coriander and so buy another... just in case.
Then you get home and find you had plenty of said spice or mustard and the jar you bought gets put in a cupboard and forgotten about. Hence the mustard audit. Don't laugh, but if I find a duplicate, I put a little label on the open jar telling me where a new jar is. I said, don't laugh.
Anyway, my condiment audit has revealed not too much in the way of mustard duplication but I did find three jars of redcurrant jelly open, half full and in the same fridge.
Decluttering the fridge has been about all I could manage this week because... Mr S Od's Law... I've had a stinking cold and a nasty cough.
Typical. Time off work and your body decides to give in to the germs.
I had a list as long as your arm of things I wanted to do, but haven't found the energy to do half of them. Or the energy to nag my husband to do any either. Friends, concerned by this fact, might be tempted to ring for an ambulance at this point. Don't worry, I'll live. I just need to stay away from the light.
Take paracetemol, drink plenty of fluids and bed rest is the sage advice for stinkycolditis.
But how about an old-fashioned remedy? Like a mustard compress? I have a jar somewhere... Dijon? English? Wholegrain? American?
Note to husband: Normal nagging will resume soon.