These are hardly "rants". I move slowly these days, because I want to be sure that I don't fall. Well-meaning people always seem to be saying to me "Take your time". I know perfectly well that this is well-meant - but, folks, this is not helpful! I am already "taking my time". I wish I didn't have to do so, but I do. Sometimes, I remember to dredge up a ghost of a smile and say "thank you". Much of the time, however, it is all I can do to stop snarling "what the hell do you think I'm doing?".
Sometimes, Barbara will ask me to "put away the silverware". Now, we do have a few knives, forks, and spoons which have at least some silver in them, but most of the time the word should be "flatware". It's a pathetic thing to complain about, I know, because "silverware" is what most people say. Sometimes I will refer to these items as "cutlery", ideally I think that should only refer to items intended to be used for cutting.
I also grumble internally when somebody asks me to "pass me a glass, please", and there is only a plastic drinking container available. Yes, I know - I should get over it. I dislike eating off paper plates, but at least these are not wearing the mantle of china. And what about bottles? We have essentially phased out plastic "bottles" in our house, but I still don't know what I should say when someone offers me a "bottle of water".
I guess that once a nitpicker, always a nitpicker. I remember being profoundly shocked a few years ago, when my good friend Robbin Clark, my parish rector, said to me in a meeting "Oh, get a life, Nigel!".