Musings from the Merse
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Well the Wife has left me.
Not for long fortunately and not for far-just Poland, in search of winter sunshine and to escape the washing up. This, and all the other chores falls to Huttonian who will also do a bit of escaping to the Big Smoke to fulfill his Borders Ambassadorial responsibilities and to see Ms Z (yes Bloggee of CB-more of those cute pictures gain) Before my southern foray (not for a couple of days yet) it was to Sir Morrisons to fill gaps in the cupboard space and to lay in essentials not necessarily recognised as such by the Wife: carrot cake, ten minutes Quichees (hence their name, I suppose) and politically correct crisps. To avoid the usual Saturday stampede I was there well before 9 but not soon enough to beat the SirM's 'keep them moving at all costs' week end policy of frantic music (Heavy Plastic I believe it is called) and freezing temperatures-the check out ladies were wisely wearing heavy mittens. Being early the check outs were too few for all those wise virgins (in a philosophical sense) who poured in in their hundreds to beat the rush. The basket and cash only checkout had a queue of 8 and it would have been quicker to have followed a solitary trolley at a checkout further north. But as I had a basket and cash in hand what could I do?
On the way back I noticed a pillar of black smoke south of Paxton. Was this the first of the Hindu burial pyres about to become a feature of the North East? Of this more anon.
If I am spared.
Not for long fortunately and not for far-just Poland, in search of winter sunshine and to escape the washing up. This, and all the other chores falls to Huttonian who will also do a bit of escaping to the Big Smoke to fulfill his Borders Ambassadorial responsibilities and to see Ms Z (yes Bloggee of CB-more of those cute pictures gain) Before my southern foray (not for a couple of days yet) it was to Sir Morrisons to fill gaps in the cupboard space and to lay in essentials not necessarily recognised as such by the Wife: carrot cake, ten minutes Quichees (hence their name, I suppose) and politically correct crisps. To avoid the usual Saturday stampede I was there well before 9 but not soon enough to beat the SirM's 'keep them moving at all costs' week end policy of frantic music (Heavy Plastic I believe it is called) and freezing temperatures-the check out ladies were wisely wearing heavy mittens. Being early the check outs were too few for all those wise virgins (in a philosophical sense) who poured in in their hundreds to beat the rush. The basket and cash only checkout had a queue of 8 and it would have been quicker to have followed a solitary trolley at a checkout further north. But as I had a basket and cash in hand what could I do?
On the way back I noticed a pillar of black smoke south of Paxton. Was this the first of the Hindu burial pyres about to become a feature of the North East? Of this more anon.
If I am spared.
Spell checker suggests 'Nourishing' for 'Morrisons' and 'Siren' for SirM. Tesco,Sainsbury etc should have a word with Mr Bill Gates for apparent favouritism in the Supermarket wars? Although Sainsbury is 'Songbird' and Tescos 'teaches' Could be worse.
Comments:
Perhaps someone thought you were becoming Border Tourism Pope and wanted to welcome you back from your overseas trip to the Court of St. Morrisons
For someone with an Orange background in Norn Iron this would have been difficult to carry off, even in St Morrison's.
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