Shift Happens
I am not sure that any of us likes change. Set in our ways, it can be experienced as extremely disruptive.
Of late we have had several changes of occupant on our road and after years of being used to the rhythm of previous neighbours, it does take some getting used to. There are now people who park in the street where the residents before were accustomed to putting their cars on the drive. Then there are those who light up a barbecue at the slightest whiff of sunshine, adding a certain "je ne sais quoi" to the scent of my washing drying on the line. Grass mowing hours have altered and there are even owners' cats to contend with, as they seek to extend their territory into our garden.
I hope none of my readers likes garden gnomes. To be fair none of our new inhabitants have yet gone so far as to install any but we do find the lifesize model deer furnishing a nearby front porch something of a novelty. However, today a Christmas wreath has appeared on the front door so I guess the deer is actually an oversized Christmas ornament, awaiting the arrival of a sleigh to pull.
The comings and goings around us, although of ongoing interest and sometimes amusement, are of course nothing compared to the changes in the governance of the country. It's like observing a televised soap opera where fiction invariably suspends reality. Whichever way you look at it, the government has definitely been shifting and some would say all over us.
Nevertheless, we had a special edition of that TV series today when Ms Trust sacked KamiKwasi and our pension funds slid still further in value along with the pound. Just when we thought it would be fun to spend retirement travelling abroad again, those in power conspire to exert further hardship upon us.
Ultimately you can get angry, protest (so long as it's not noisy or under the new legislation you are liable to arrest), glue yourself to something, write long letters to your MP (mine was complicit in the shift storm, so maybe not).
Is there a solution? Well presently I'm trying very hard to rise above it all; find the inner voyeur and stay on the sidelines. Believe me though, next election and I'll be first in line at the polling station, casting my vote for yet more change. In the meantime, when Christmas actually approaches, I might just pen a letter to Santa Claus and ask him to round up all the porch-bound reindeer.
( Image by Beverly Buckley from Pixabay)
Comments
Life is never dull in the uk is it??