WRITE CHOICES AND ASPIRATIONS

That's been the story all week.

Work has been a nightmare.   ON Monday the van wouldn't start so an engineer was called.   He got it going but no one has solved the mystery of what is draining the battery in the first place, so the problem is still there.   By the time the van was fixed I could only make it to my last port of call for a Monday which is Oxton near Lauder.   Driving condtions were poor but we made it.

Sadly the rest of the week was a no no.  It snowed and then the boss coudln't get the van up the hill because it was not gritted.  Even if she had got it out, she would never have got it home again.   it cannot go anywhere else because it needs plugging into the special cables to power all the equipment.   The boxes for these cables are on the side of the boss's house.

My other job is a couple of miles on the other side of the village and I have been unable to get there.   My  car is buried under a mound of snow and would merely slide everywhere even if I could get it out.  Add to that the fact that I stood on my pins all day on Tuesday helping out in the village post office and my ankle was throbbing and you have a hopeless situation for doing anything which again requires you to be on your feet all day.

So it has been a very non productive week.   Worse still, the snow is still lying.  So I am not over optimistic about getting the van out next week.

My kitchen cupboards have been tidied, needlepoint finished, socks ripped out and getting re-knitted.  All the things that would normally have to wait.

I have also managed a Haiku with accompanying photograph to Ink, Sweat and Tears but just can't quite bully myself into a short story.   I need to write several and get myself motivated.

Bread is even baking in the oven.  Such domesticity.

What fascinates me is the way everyone is panicking around as if they have been under siege for 6 months instead of about 4 days.   I keep getting asked if I am alright.

Why wouldn't I be?

I used to live in the middle of nowhere with four little girls and an army of animals to feed.  I shopped roughly once a fortnight.  That's how it is in the country.   We don't dart to shops every day.  Apart from that there is a good butcher and a shop in the village so why the panic to drive to Hawick to give your money to supermarkets who want to kill off all the small businesses.   And if you forget your purse do you think they are going to say, "nae bother, just hand it in next time you're passing,"    Support the private shopkeeper.   Let my father lie easy in his grave.

I rest my case.