If you're anything like me, you probably can't remember the last time you were wrong about something. As for admitting it, well, that's not going to happen. Ever.
Imagine my surprise and consternation on discovering something I was wrong about and am willing to admit it.
It all started when I went to put a few tins of beans in the big cupboard in the utility room. As I pushed the tins onto the crowded shelf, they displaced several empty jam jars which threatened to shower down a hail of deadly glass projectiles and injure me terribly.
I complained loudly to my wife, who was responsible for carefully washing and saving every glass jar we emptied. "They're taking up valuable space." I complained "There's no room for my beans or any other nutritious foodstuffs for that matter."
Now you see where the stilted dialogue in my novels comes from. I am only reporting the pedantic way in which I carry on a conversation.
Grumpily, the only appropriate disposition for carrying out household tasks, I decanted the glass items into several cardboard boxes and dumped them in the conservatory. The effort of actually chucking them out proved too much for me and they remained cluttering up the place until very recently.
A neighbour's tree has a branch which hangs over our garden. This became replete with green plum-type fruit which began to litter the unfinished decorative stone surround to the geodome. The rest of the stone has been ordered from Frankie but he has been in Kent for the last few months and hasn't got round to delivering it. That's OK as we will probably change the design to incorporate growing beds instead. It's more in keeping with our permaculture design ethos.
Anyway, these plums needed picking up so I threw the rotton ones onto the compost heap and made jam with the others. Seven pots of delicious jam.
A friend has plum trees and so we made some jam with those. The courgette harvest has been a particularly good one and yielded huge amounts of chutney. When we were at Brands Hatch last week, the hotel car park had crab apple trees which we took advantage of and made crap apple jelly. More pots were needed for this.
The boxes in the conservatory are emptying fast, at this rate I may need to buy some jam jars. They cost £1 each!
So, I admit I was wrong.
I suppose there has to be a first time for everything.