Notes from the country with Vicky Turrell

Here it comes again. ‘Please book your free spring NHS COVID-19 vaccination’. It was apparently recommended because of my age. I could book an appointment or find a local drop-in centre if I pressed a link. I did this, but the nearest places offered were about ten miles away. I waited another week and there it was – the local Fire Station offering jabs. My original short sleeved t-shirt especially for blood tests and vaccinations (it is my age) has grown decidedly worn and grubby. I have bought a new one with hedgehogs printed on and it doubles as a pyjama top. Quite a few of my friends are not bothering with the COVID jab these days. They say that they had all the injections and then got COVID anyway. Some are saying that it is not worth it because the risks are small. I talked to the nurse about this and I noticed that there was no rush and no queue. She said that the jab only last six months and that it changes as the virus mutates. She also said that the jabs cost a lot and the...

  ‘Road ahead CLOSED’ How often we see this sign and carry on as if it does not apply to us. But this time we were unlucky. We were going shopping, a quiet day out, looking for a lampshade for our lounge which so far has sported a bare bulb. But the road was certainly closed and the barriers were up. We went back to follow the diversion signs with our sat nav screaming, ‘Turn around when possible’. The trouble is with diversion signs that you do not know whether they are for you or for some other road works long forgotten. Eventually we found our way through but had a surprise. Whatever has happened to lampshades? When I last bought one, it was made of patterned cloth with special trim at the top and bottom and a fringe. But now they all seem to be plastic or harsh metal. We went home empty handed and bought a fabric one on-line, with no trim and no fringe. Then to add insult to injury we have apparently, according to my friend, hung it up-side-down. We went to the theatre ...

  ‘Tap, tap, tap.’ I heard the noise clearly as I was sitting on the patio enjoying the early spring sunshine. What could it be? I thought it was coming from the people who have just bought the house over the field. They have been working on renovating and I often see a bright light which they use to focus on their work. But no, I looked over and no one was there. Could it be a woodpecker? But no, we do not have mature trees near enough for a woodpecker to drill. In the end I saw a great-tit tapping away at the entrance to our new bird box.   The hole was the exact size for this bird so why work on the entrance when there was no need? The house sparrows which showed an interest in the box early in the year have long gone so there were no other contenders for the nest site. I talked to my friend about it. She said perhaps the bird was simply claiming the box for his family and putting his marker on it to make it his own. Just like when we came to this new house, we gave it ...

  “That’s me sorted,” said the man in shorts on a freezing cold day. “Now we are in Spring it’s shorts for me ‘till it snows.” Have you noticed that some people wear shorts with bare legs even in cold weather? I do not know how they can bear it! I was wearing woollen tights and a down filled coat with my hood up. “Now when I set off for work at six in the morning, I can just see a sliver of light on the horizon. It’s marvellous.”   I did not say but at six I the morning I am still in bed tucked up under the duvet. Last week I also did not say to Mr T that the box of special dark chocolates I had bought were a gift for a friend. She has had an operation and has been non weight baring for some time but is now at the stage of wearing casual shoes it has been a long recovery and I went to see her forgetting to take the special box of chocolates. “Never mind,” I told her I will bring them next time I come. But when I arrived home Mr T was eating them. He had no idea I had bough...

  ‘I don’t know what my daughter will think,’ she says. I am shivering in the fish queue again. For just one hour, one day a week, you can buy fresh fish. Such a treat for us being so far from the coast. I am second from the back. The queue stays about the same size. Too long and I would not want to wait that time, too short and it would not catch your eye. The fishmonger is an expert at regulating the line of people, chatting for a long time or a short time to create an interest. ‘Where is your daughter?’ I ask. “She is in Australia, but is coming home tomorrow, what on earth will think of our weather?” The only thing that takes up as much time as weather in our conversation is potholes. But I am at the front now paying my money and I have run out of time. We seem to have also run out of time and money for our food recycling bins. My sister in Yorkshire has a little food bin that she puts out for regular Council collection. I am trying to remember what we did with waste food...

  ‘Beep, beep.’ I was hurrying along to visit a friend in hospital when I heard this noise from a car behind me. Then ‘Honk, honk,’ it went even louder this time. I had only just left my car in the car park when heard the noise. It sounded impatient but I cannot walk any faster. ‘Honk, honk, honk,’ it blared.’ How dare they? The park is for walkers as well as cars. I was getting annoyed as the engine revved and the impertinent car edged along. She slid her window down. Here it comes, I thought, she will be shouting at me and telling me to get out of the way. “You have dropped your scarf,” she yelled against the noise of the driving rain and interminable traffic. I turned around and saw my beautiful scarf flapping along in the puddles powered by high winds. I did not have time to thank her before she sped off away from the crowded park. This was my warm, woollen scarf which I bought on impulse when I ordered my last jumper (the colour was appropriately called ‘Wreckage’!) in the...