It’s not Sunday but…

Today is Wednesday, which I think of as the central pivot on which the see-saw of the week is balanced. It is not our usual shopping day but at this time of year, what is usual no longer applies. We needed a few things – quite a lot of things, actually – and so a shopping trip was required.

Newspapers and magazines in Sainsbury’s
Newspapers and magazines in Sainsbury’s
Photo by Tigger

As Sainsbury’s has requested that people shop singly to aid distancing, we agreed that Tigger would go to the store to do the actual shopping and I would meet her outside to help carry the bounty home. She would text me when she joined the queue at the checkout – which should leave me enough time to reach the store myself before she emerged.

Baron Street
Baron Street

In the event, I cheated by leaving early so that I could dawdle and take photos along the way – something a bit difficult to do when hurrying home dragging a heavy shopping trolley. As you can see, it’s a fine, bright day but cold – just above freezing.

Chapel Market - just a few stalls
Chapel Market – just a few stalls

I was interested to see whether there would be more stalls open in Chapel Market today. There were a few but not many. I think the fruit stall in the right foreground belongs to the shop behind it. Quite often, the shops put out stalls on market days.

Pot plants
Pot plants

The old question about “essential” items raised its head. Are pot plants “essential” under Tier 4 rules? Some might say so, I suppose. I think these are for planting out rather than for home decoration though gardening is one of the many subjects of which I am ignorant.

A second fruit and veg stall
A second fruit and veg stall

A second fruit and veg stall had set up further along, this one definitely a market trader, not connected to a shop. He was rewarded with a few customers.

Covers and repairs for your mobile
Covers and repairs for your mobile

This stall selling accessories for mobiles and advertising repairs also seems to be of doubtful essentiality (a word that I imagine will gain wider currency in these troublous times) but no doubt welcome to some even so.

Drinks and snacks
Drinks and snacks

This snacks stall, which I had not seen before, had attracted a few customers. It must be difficult deciding how much fresh food to buy and prepare in view of the uncertainty of trade at the moment.

Arriving at Sainsbury’s
Arriving at Sainsbury’s

Just as I reached Sainsbury’s, a text arrived from Tigger, saying she was at a checkout. I had to decide whether to go in or wait outside.

Tigger’s booty
Tigger’s booty
Photo by Tigger

In “normal” times, you can wait at the automatic exit door and sneak in as an exiting customer leaves, arriving in front of the checkouts, but today, that door, clearly marked “EXIT ONLY”, was guarded by security persons. Rather than fight my way in from the entrance, then, I decided to wait outside.

Outside peering in
Outside peering in

I stationed myself outside near the exit and peered in but couldn’t see Tigger. I think the security staff were a little suspicious of this lurking figure taking photos but were busy with customers and didn’t find time to challenge me.

Mercer’s
Mercer’s

As we do on Sundays, we passed through Chapel Market and stopped at Mercer’s. I went inside to buy the coffee while Tigger waited outside.

A loyalty card
A loyalty card

This time, hearing that we were local, they gave me a loyalty card. I’m pretty sure it won’t take long for us to fill it and score free coffee. Woo, join the club! 🙂

Baron Street - contre jour photo
Baron Street – contre jour photo
Photo by Tigger

All we had to do now was to hotfoot it home before the coffee cooled in the chill air. Tigger did pause in Baron Street to take this photo. If it looks like an evening shot that’s because it’s taken with the light in front (contre jour, if you want to be techno-fussy 🙂 ).

So home we went and enjoyed our coffee – well earned, I think 🙂

Poem

Anon, 1989

  • I remember a silent room
  • with flies darting and tumbling
  • like the souls of half-remembered tears,
  • where frozen in silence
  • like a fly in aspic jelly
  • I sat through long hours
  • and the occupant of that room,
  • humming a tuneless tune
  • that returned and returned and never ended,
  • did not look at me, staring into space,
  • eyes filled with distant sights and distant times,
  • humming a tuneless tune as the flies darted and tumbled.
  •  
  • He was elegant in a way,
  • each hair in place,
  • each like a strand of tired silver
  • laid in its place,
  • trousers pressed and severely creased,
  • a tropical jacket, cream-coloured,
  • worn like a uniform and smelling of moth-balls,
  • black boots tightly laced to the ankles
  • and a stiff high collar
  • clutching his throat like a strangling fist,
  • unnoticed while he hummed and hummed
  • to the darting, tumbling flies.
  •  
  • Frozen in the silence
  • that was of another time,
  • I watched while ghosts,
  • unseen by me,
  • paraded for inspection before eyes
  • focussed on distant sights and distant times,
  • while around the light bulb
  • the flies darted and tumbled
  • like the souls of half-remembered tears.