Science fikshun in the kitschun

So we go to B&Q this morning where the plump and endearing Michelle spends two hours taking us through the modern day process that is kitchen planning, at end of which (like a prize on Blue Peter) you are presented with a 3D rendering of what you have just overspent on.

Work surfaces were best. "I'll cost granite, solid wood and laminate for you so you can see the difference" said the charming Stepford Michelle. The Kitchen with Granite came out at about a quarter of a million pounds or something equally ridiculous. With solid wood it was fourteen thousand, with laminate it was twelve.

"Most people go for laminate" said the ever smiling Michelle. "It's very good even after twenty ears you can't see the wear". How would you know, I asked myself, that's older than you. There was an intonation in her voice along the lines of "if you could have afforded granite you wouldn't have been shopping in B&Q in the first place" but I should be more charitable, she was very helpful and her name by the way wasn't Michelle.

We talked about overhead cupboards, corner carousels, and built in spice racks until my blood sugar and my boredom started to slug it out for the honour of seeing who could send me to sleep first.

"He always does this " said TSM who was by now in the curious conspiracy of women customers and female shop assistants; the long serving and the long suffering in the company of reluctant men. They had a TV on the wall and the news coverage was about the disappeared Malaysian airline. The incongruity always gets me at this point with ever present news media. My hunt for an affordable kitchen seemed trivial compared to the thought of wailing relatives wondering what has become of their loved ones. But then it's all different even to two decades ago. I was sitting there texting the Dizzle, checking the football fixtures and watching satellite news from the Indian Ocean whilst an underpaid store hand produced a 3D picture of my dream kitchen. Science fiction in the kitchen. And yet it's all just life and death and how we occupy the time in between.

Someone somewhere's dying now
Someone somewhere's making love

It's a funny old world.

We thanked Michelle and left a £50 deposit against a five figure commitment which seemed cheap to me, and then I dropped TSM at home and drove an hour up to Orpington to see Aged P.

"We've been trying to call everyone" said the receptionist as I walked through the door. "We've got an outbreak of norovirus and we're advising people not to visit. Can you sign in and use the handwash please". I did spend 20 minutes with Aged P who was confined to bed having "had it at both ends" as the care assistant on her floor so charmingly put it. She was surprisingly bright and we air kissed and kept our distance, but she was sleepy so I didn't outstay my welcome.

No science fiction in the kitchen tonight. I made old fashioned aubergine and haloumi in a rich tomato sauce and a carrot and cashew nut piaf, but TSM was poorly so I ate some in front of Top Gear (which I loath) with The Dizzle. All in all a good day despite loved ones being under the weather.

There was a man on the news who had had his face rebuilt using a 3D printer so I shall go to bed dreaming of the endless possibilities of science and Michelle cooking TSM and I a 3D meal in our new dream kitchen.

Or maybe she'll just press a button and print it out.