I have been cogitating this week on Tuesday's doings.
On Tuesday, as you know, I ventured out to the Post Office. This small sub-post office has been there for some time and I have always liked the way the young lady smiles at me each time. I have yet to decide whether she is grinning or being friendly. The PO part must be what keeps this shop going. Just 50 yards away a 'Tesco Express' was opened just in time for Lockdown. That must have taken a large chunk from the profits here, but they continue to work all the hours of the day. I asked the man at the shop counter if he ever takes a day off? I am not sure he does. I saw the girl in Sainsburys car park once, I think this was the only time she was allowed out. Asians, possibly Hindu, they never appear to close. People like this are being turned away for political points by the vile Priti Patel. I suggest sending her to Rwanda and employing the shop people in the Home Office!
I ventured to the church where a coffee morning was taking place. It is on this that I have been cogitating. I was offered tea and while accepting found it difficult to allow the woman in charge to go and make one for me. I wished to do this myself, partly to avoid making work for her, when had been busy for an hour already with a dozen others, and also because I did not like someone acting like a servant to me! Had I been in a shop or café I would not have noticed, but having someone I knew doing this appeared suddenly to be wrong.
I remember a TV programme from around 35 years ago. This featured a plane load of passengers on a 'Round the World Trip,' and paying £20,000 a go for the pleasure. I would not like to guess how much the cost would be today. India, Egypt, Easter Island and other places were visited, with guides, to most people's pleasure. However, to moments in India remain in my mind. One was the complaint from passengers unknown, that they were 'seeing a lot of poverty in India,' and they 'did not wish to see poverty.' Hmmm... Other passengers shared the same opinion as you.
The second memory was of these people, on horse drawn carts, being taken two by two, into a grand house for dinner that evening. As they drove in around the entrance along the path people stood throwing flower petals over them, as if the passengers were famous individuals. At the time I cringed at this, I felt sure that had I been there I would have got out and thrown petals across those paid a few rupees to welcome the great, rich, visitors. The idea of serfs welcoming you with bowing and flower throwing may suit some, I find it grates somewhat. The complaining types will have enjoyed that bit.
I made my excuses and made my second cup of tea myself, though I did find the kitchen full of women getting in one another's way, and forced myself in among them. Later, I sneaked out, washing my cup by myself, partly to avoid overworking the ladies, partly to avoid using them as serfs. I don't think they noticed, so I wandered of home. No serfs here, that is why nothing gets done...
