Out Now!

Saturday, 10 March 2018

Waitrose will have milk come the Apocalypse. Tesco, I’m not so sure about.

I love shopping, a disturbing admission for a man. Let me clarify, I’m not talking about clothes. That I abhor. I’m happy with what I’ve got until my wife points out they’ve largely disintegrated. Then it’s a brief foray out and then home.

No, I’m talking about food-shopping, the last residual shadow of man, the primitive hunter – or in my case, man with an appetite.  What adds piquancy to the twice weekly event is the nearly two mile walk into Monmouth – the same walk but one that changes with the seasons.

Summer, a view from Osbaston Road

Autumn. Vauxhall Field and a glimpse of the River Monnow

Autumn, the Monnow and a glimpse of Vauxhall field.

Winter, Vauxhall Field and St Mary's Church

Winter, Vauxhall Field and St Mary's Church touched by God.

Uh, uh. Something's brewing. (My Turner moment) 

Snow, however, is the big event, and its effect on people is weird. People walk for starters, they have to, and greet each other like comrades in arms, as though we’ve just weathered another night of the blitz.  Earnest conversations ensue as to whether there is still milk in Waitrose. If only Napoleon’s soldiers had it so good on their retreat from Moscow. And yes there was milk in Waitrose. There’s always milk in Waitrose. Waitrose will have milk come the Apocalypse. Tesco, I’m not so sure about.
Osbaston Road. The trudge into town

A cold looking River Monnow

Crossing the Monnow.

Vauxhall Field and St Mary's

No People

But then comes the thaw and the ‘walkers’ vanish, and a new season begins.

Soon be spring.


Maria Zannini said...

I don't mind trekking into town but I'm not sure I'd like to be trudging back with groceries. You're made of hardy stock, Keyton.

Mike Keyton said...

On this occasion, Bernadette trekked with me, and it was tough because the walk back is up a series of hills. I confess, when the weather is good, I walk down and get the bus back (it drops me off outside our door) The call me 'Bag-lady' because I'm laden with three large plastic bags in each hand. If I'm at the back of the bus the occasional passenger will get clunked on the head with a bag holding bottles or tins, as I navigate my way down to the exist :)

Mike Keyton said...