As light relief from the horrors of this utterly unnecessary election and Brexit, plus the disasters of Trump, I am allowing myself to laugh at myself in this brief blog.
I am of the generation brought up in the real austerity days
after the 2nd world war, when there was nothing available in the
shops to buy, and in any case you viewed buying anything which was not
absolutely essential as frivolous, and made sure that you saved everything you
could. “Waste not, want not” was the
slogan then. These words popped into my
head this morning as I walked, carefully watching where I put my feet on the
increasingly uneven pavement (is the local council cutting back on repairing
the road as well as everything else?), when I noticed, as I often do,
one of the rubber bands which postmen now throw away as they walk on their
rounds. These rubber bands used to be
red, but have recently changed their colour to brown.
I am always tempted to pick one up when I see one, because I
often need them for all kinds of things, such as packing books together to hand
on to my friends, and I baulk at the thought of buying a packet when so many
lie discarded at my feet wherever I walk.
And then I thought of how odd it would look to see me bending over from
time to time to pick them up (and what if I toppled over again doing this, just
as I fell a few weeks ago?). And should
I then wash them to remove the street dirt from them?
So with reluctance I leave them lying sadly abandoned there,
although each time I see one a little pang passes through me at the sight of so