Tag Archives: my future

Day 151

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I’m on holiday now. Wednesday is my usual day off. Thursday and Friday are public holidays for the Platinum Jubilee, on Saturday the Post Office is closed so there is little point us working (according to the owner). It will be Monday before I work again. It’s a nice bonus, but a little annoying as it disrupts things like prescription orders. The Queen will, presumably, be working on those two days, so I don’t see why the rest of us can’t. I say “working” – a little correspondence, a personal appearance or two, checking up on Prince Andrew (currently chained in the Palace Dungeons where he cannot do more harm to the Royal Brand or see any woman under 50) and dinner cooked by a fleet of flunkeys is slightly different to the “work” that the erst of the country has to do.

I admit that’s a slightly jaundiced view of the Royal Life, but when you find out that Prince Charles has people to run his bath, and has precise requirements regarding water temperature, it hard not to espouse Trotskyite Principles.

I’ve been thinking about the events of yesterday, and have decided that it’s time to start filling my time with more  meaningful stuff, as there is a limited time between now and whatever lies ahead in terms of diminishing brain power. The first step is deciding what “meaningful stuff” actually is.

I suppose this is where I start becoming misty-eyed about family and grandchildren. Or decide I want to leave a lasting legacy.

Actually, I’m thinking about robbing a bank. The extra cash will come in handy as prices keep going up and if they catch me what can they do to me that is any worse than living in a care home? Poor food, authoritarian staff, room mates with low standards of personal hygiene – or jail?

The picture, with connotations of jail and snouts in the trough, seemed apt.

Day 141

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It was just another Saturday.

Got up with plenty of time to spare. Julia made bacon sandwiches and I went to work to find the almost obligatory small car parked (badly) directly in front of the shop. Yet another of the blue rinse brigade going to the hairdresser but parking in our spaces.

I stamped up a couple of heavy parcels that were going abroad (approximately £28 of stamps on each one), packed the other orders and settled down in front of the computer to watch a live auction sale. At that point the customers and phone calls commenced. It’s always the way. can’t complain though, as we are only just building the retail trade up to a reasonable level after Covid.

An elderly gent came in with his daughter as he had saved some coins from his change and wondered if they were worth anything. They were the same assortment as usual and, as usual, worth only their face value. He went away crestfallen, with his daughter laughing. I felt sorry for him, as he was only acting on stories he had seen in the news about coin values. Part of the sympathy, I admit, was because I had a sense of looking at my own future. And not even my distant future.

Later in the afternoon we had a small rush of orders. Four to be precise. Three came in while I was loading items for sale and the final one came in while I was packing the others. The Post Office closes at lunchtime on Saturdays so we couldn’t get them in the post but at least they will be done for Monday.

One of the customers is a butcher and brought us a pack of sausages, so I ended up bringing sausages home in my lunchbox. They look very good, but I’m not sure whether to have them for breakfast (which seems a bit greedy) or to save them for tea (which involves self-discipline).

Maybe I was wrong in the first line. It wasn’t just another Saturday, because we got free sausages.