The north eastern wind had died down considerably. The light was filling the space between the
ragged curtains. I was awake and not
sleepy enough to go back to sleep, sadly.
There was nothing for it but to rise early and head for Tesco.
Tesco has become the centre of life these days. With the chill in the air and the police limits
of walking I rarely venture out. With no
reason to use a scarce bus I have nowhere to go but the town around me, that I
know only too well. Tesco, or Sainsburys
visits now mean adventure and human contact.
Whether it means adventure to the Sainsburys staff I cannot really say.
So, dressed for an Arctic trip, coat on, shoes on feet,
cap on head I open the door on the day.
A car passes, a second one travels the other way then silence
falls. Just before 8 am and
silence? The rush hour ought to be
beginning but few are about. I cross the
street and deposit another ‘return to sender’ in the pillar box. These come with the leaving of tenants. This one returns for the last time, from now on
they can send the Debt Collectors in.
These are easy to spot, almost all the same, offering nice words and
easy ways to pay, knowing the culprit has flown. I wonder why they bother? I wonder also about people who so easily
avoid paying bills. Some have clearly
obtained a credit card not too long before they flee, continue using said card for
a while and are not available to pay the bill. Easy credit costs credit companies, no matter
how much they make from the card. It is
difficult to feel sympathy for credit cards that get cheated however, they rip
us off quite happily.
I wander passed the gates of the police station expecting
a man in Stasi uniform to appear and question my motives. None appears, I continue noting the Spring
like garden that looks great in the sun but somewhat weary when that sun hides
behind the clouds as he does this morning.
Nothing moves. Even the birds are
quiet in this street. At the main road I
see three people, well apart, at the temporary bus stops. This has been required as the town council,
or at least some of them, are constructing a ‘white elephant’ beside this
road. A hotel, doctors’ surgery and restaurants!
Wonderful! Except that apart from the doctors we do not
require this monstrosity. For over 20 years
they, or at least the Leader, has been desperate to fill this space, why we ask
and how much will he make out of it cynics wish to know? Funnily enough the planning people did not
oppose this plan.
I was not surprised to see an early queue outside Tesco. A wee bit miffed that the barriers erected
for the crowds meant a long walk to the rear to join the queue. The queue was all male, each six feet or so
from the man in front, each also carrying that vague smile that wondered
whether all this was really necessary but accepted it all the same. No-one spoke, though we did exchange glances
that spoke. Individuals joined us, also
all male, each revealing his own thoughts with a glance. One man wore a face mask, and stood out. He was young, most of us are no longer young.
We slowly moved, one customer at a time,
bringing to mind soup kitchen lines from the 1930’s or Prisoners of war
awaiting feeding time as we neared the door.
Once the woman in charge allowed us in, we were instructed to sanitise
our hands before we could continue. Informed
that we left by the other door, and I, like the rest, smiled submission and hastened
in before more orders arrived.
Extra sour faced security were on patrol, each trying to
look tough, each in danger of provoking mirth.
However, I suspect they will get work during the day from the towns less
beloved characters.
Being organised it did not take me long to get round,
avoid most people, easy when dealing with a shop full of males of course, and
quickly get to the checkout, once I had worked out how to get there past the
blocked aisles, so that then as I paid I recalled the things not on the
shopping list that I ought to have remembered.
Enough bought for a week.
Two heavy bags and a bill to pay.
How I miss buying when I need it and not for a week! I crawled home passing shops bearing notices
informing the regulars that the they are closed because of the virus. I look longingly in at the barbers, I need
him now, not in the unknown future. My
Hippy style may return, but slightly greyer this time.
Back home I forget to spend the day tidying and watch old
films made during the war to inform us how ‘Bomber Command’ and ‘Coastal
Command’ did their jobs. These, with
somewhat still scripts, made use of the men, including senior officers, to
inform the nation how they went about their business. All a bit stiff but informed the nation in a
time of stress. Indeed, the war had a
long way to go while such films were being made and the intention was to ‘gee
up’ the people and allow them to see what all sides of the services were going
through. I wonder if such a film could
be made today to show what is happening in the nation regarding this virus
war? I fear our cynicism may render that
impossible.
This afternoon I ventured out once again, the excitement
might be killing for some, following two part time joggers and a couple of kids
on bikes. Exercise time for us all. I wandered around, enjoying the freedom,
avoiding any who came near, women tending to think 15 feet is still not sufficient
space, and climbed back up the hill and across the park considering myself to
have walked a marathon. It was half a
mile if anything. Few were around, some traffic
on the main road, fewer than normal and none on the small roads.
Such is my life now.
The routine has changed with no football and lock
down. Silence reigns at night with little
traffic or passing footsteps. Only the
noise from my phone as people I ought not to have given my number to call for
no good reason! It is slightly boring
now. What will it be like in the weeks
and months to come?
If you think this post boring, wait until August!
