Wait until next year

A day bookended by shopping.

I got to the supermarket well before eight, as I prefer an early start to fighting amongst the hoards. This wasn’t even the panic-buy-everything-in-sight-because-the-shops-are-closed-for-one-day shop. I was just doing the weekly shop, as it turns out you can’t just survive on Twiglets and Quality Street and do actually need the odd vegetable here and there.

I went to the shopping centre this evening. By five the shops were pretty empty. Every shopping assistant looked knackered, so I suspect all the Christmas shoppers had already shopped until they’d dropped, leaving the place free for the odd tactical shopper like myself. There was a Ferris wheel and twinkly lights and in the early dark it all looked very pretty and welcoming, rather the hell I half expected.

I feel like I’m cheating starting my Christmas shopping so early, but rest assured there is still plenty to get.

The middle of the day was taken up with lovely long walks. Nowhere fancy, just around the streets in the few miles around where I live. There was a lot of lovely peace and quiet. There was a wistful, melancholy light, more Autumnal than Wintry. Children were still playing in the swing parks. I walked around where there are three different football teams, all within spitting distance of one another. The silence of the streets was punctured by the odd shout and grunt, the trill of a referee’s whistle. The floodlights looked kind of festive. The clubhouses looked welcoming. I found streets I’d never walked before.