Friday 30th March 2012
SALT, sausages, sugar, spaghetti. Oh… and stamps of course, even though I don’t need any, but they’re going to go up soon so it’d be a good idea to start stockpiling.
Fortunately they don’t take up much space… you know, what with the loft, cellar, garage and shed all bulging with other necessities: sacks of rice, crates of bottled water, tins of baked beans, candles, batteries, toothbrushes, Trident missiles etc.
Occasionally – now that I’m old enough to get away with eccentric behaviour – I compile shopping lists of items that all start with the same letter: B and C are particular favourites.
Not today though, for today we are facing a grave national crisis. There is talk of a possible strike by the drivers of fuel tankers. The very fabric of society is under threat. It is imperative that we purchase darning needles and reels of cotton in order to patch it up.
(NB: add a couple of bottles of Dunkirk spirit to the list.)
I gather there have been a few queues at petrol stations.
But, hang on… there won’t be any point in having enough in your tank (or spare jerrycan) to enable you to drive to the supermarket if, as will surely happen, those vehicles which deliver goods to the self-same supermarket are unable to transport those goods because there’s no petrol available. In no time at all there will be shortages of everything.
But it doesn’t stop there, of course – there’ve been rumours of other professions maybe taking industrial action: the police, fire-fighters, even doctors and nurses; not to mention the ongoing drought and plans for a minimum price per unit of booze.
Eeek! Where will it end? In tears? Not with a bang, but a whimper?
Enough. It’s all very well for me to be concerned about the rapid decline in the population of bees, but the government and media insist I ignore that and get on out there with my Panic shopping list. Today’s reads as follows:
Pasties (from Penzance)
Oh… and pollen – just in case.