SLR, 1980

Our dishwasher recently started washing everything in cold water and leaving the dishes very wet and not entirely clean. It moved with us from Durham eleven years ago, but was only brought back into use a couple of years ago when the one we acquired in the previous owner's fitted kitchen failed, so I wasn't sure whether it was worth trying to have it repaired. I searched our various files of product information and receipts, and duly established that the dishwasher was bought in 2008, so has had about seven years actual use; P has booked an engineer visit. My search also uncovered lots of more interesting relics of our history, many of which related to things we no longer own. The file is now a lot slimmer.

The receipt shows that I bought my first "real" camera from Dixons early in 1980. I was nineteen, in my second year at university, and had recently been awarded a student in residence book grant, paid by cheque. It didn't take me long to overcome my scruples and spend most of it on a camera. The Chinon CS was an entry level SLR and cost £69.95, plus an extra £10.99 for the robust case. It came with a 50mm f2.8 lens, was considered good value by Amateur Photographer magazine, and had the wonderful innovation of through the lens metering - no more guessing at exposure, and no need for a hand held light meter. I could finally frame my image in the viewfinder and be confident none of it would be cut off in the photo. Marks on the lens gave a rough indication of depth of field at different apertures. I loved it, and used it for many years before succumbing, I think, to the temptation of autofocus. I still have the Chinon somewhere in a box, so it will probably be photographed one day.

I photographed the documents at the end of a busy day when I'd not made time for photography. After J's shower, morning routine and breakfast, all of which takes several hours, I helped her finish her preparation for the afternoon's online group activity, spending longer than I expected finding old photos for her and editing them - not strictly necessary, but I wanted to improve them. Then early (and incomplete) lunch, an hour of fairly intensive interaction with a noisy group which she joined by Facebook messenger, and a friendly chat afterwards with a member of staff we hadn't seen for a long time, interrupted by the early arrival of the supermarket delivery, which I had deliberately scheduled later than usual. Ice cream in the freezer and milk in the fridge, I'd barely fed J the rest of her reheated lunch, and most of the shopping was still in the hall when a lost delivery driver phoned for directions. We're used to this - satnav always deposits them a couple of hundred metres away, generally facing in the wrong direction - so I went out to the road to wave as he returned towards our rather well hidden house. The pallet conveying several large boxes of patio furniture was deposited at the entrance to our driveway, which was pronounced too soft for the pallet-carrying device, so we had to detach and carry in all the boxes almost immediately. J was disgruntled that I'd not given her dessert, it was almost six o'clock, and I'd still not had time to make my late morning coffee and felt in dire need of it. I paused, breathed and imbibed my caffeine before getting J ready for dinner - and I'll stop there. This was yesterday, and my blip is not the only thing I'm still trying to catch up with.