Non-Essential Shopping
Non-essential shops re-opened today and, if the camera doesn't lie, people were queuing outside waiting for the doors to be unlocked. I stayed well clear, so cannot vouch for the accuracy of the reports.
Assuming that I understood the Chancellor correctly, he was actually urging us to get out there and spend in order to save British business and help arrest the economic decline. Yes, he was asking us to visit retail outlets branded as non-essential by the Government itself, in order to buy the goods which they sell and which, therefore, by definition we do not need.
Now that's a message that takes a little digesting. After all the bellicose rhetoric the Prime Minster in particular has been using, I thought, in the spirit of the 1940’s, we were very much required to "make do and mend". Didn't I replace my sewing machine specially? At least it will come in useful for making all those masks we have to cover our faces with, if using public transport to get to the shops.
Of course, I don't want to portray myself as totally virtuous. When I've wanted something in lockdown, online orders and delivery to the door have been a boon and in many cases it's been local firms that have come up with the goods.
There's been no impulse shopping but I have made unnecessary purchases, nonetheless. They make a diverse list:
Beeswax pellets to make my own wraps;
Elastic for those face masks;
A fly swatter, for wafting irritating insects when the weather got warm, after the old one held together by tape gave up the ghost;
Wooden slats for construction of another compost bin;
Hairgrips to cope with the extra inches hanging over my face;
Bamboo canes to prop up pepper and tomato plants;
Various books to keep me occupied in reading material during the lockdown;
A new ironing board cover to replace the one that was singed and no longer fitted;
A long, flexible sink brush to clean beneath the plug holes;
A waterproof jacket for hill-walking after my rather old one began to leak;
A wipeclean vinyl tablecloth to protect the table when I splash those acrylic paints.
Bought over a period of 12 weeks, the delivery of each gave me greater pleasure than one great big shopping spree. In fact, I can't think of anything worse than trawling our local high street for all those items, the elusivity of which would probably have forced me to return empty handed save in the case of the books where I would have been weighted down.
Retirement is a time for ridding oneself of the burden of stuff. If the Government could just make travelling safe again rather than shops, I'd gladly start spending on train and ferry fares.
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