I could do a day’s work, call in at the supermarket on the way home, and cook for 4 before collapsing.
These days an hour’s shopping in Winchester and an hour in Sainsbury's afterwards and I’m knackered. And as W. is fond of saying ‘We could still be working’.
The shopping was all the worse because I couldn’t get half the things I needed – obviously no-one has birthdays in November or December – or if they do they have their presents wrapped in Christmas paper. After 40 years of December birthdays [brother, husband, son] I know to get cards when I see them – but I had forgotten the need to wrap Babybel’s presents. [She’s two on Thursday!]
And is it just me, or does there seem to be even more tacky Christmas tat this year? Wall to wall instantly disposable naff rubbish everywhere.
On a more positive note, there was an article in my newspaper at the weekend, saying that those of us born in 1948 had the best of it – we were the first to be born under the National Health Service, we got [means tested] grants and no tuition fees at University [the first time round], we were the right age to enjoy the 60s [that’s the 1960s, although I intend to enjoy my 60s as well], we could retire at 60 and we have final salary pensions.
Not all of those apply to me, but it confirms what I’ve always felt – my generation had the best of it. Mind you we also had Thatcher, and as there are so many of us the NHS is finding it hard to cope!
On a different topic – when I decided to make a sketch book for CT, I realised that all those papers I’d roller printed when I was working through Margaret Peot’s book were perfect for it – loops and globs of string. So here’s a page made from one of those papers, with an only slightly doctored photo of aforementioned strings. And a bit of yellow paint that’s come through from the other side.
PS I thought I posted this yesterday – but apparently not. Who understands the ways of Blogger and Live Writer?
Still, saves me having to think of something intelligent to say about day 2 of the degree till tomorrow …