Out of sync
‘You
are out of sync’, it said on my package. Well, these days I have often thought
that I am. Things move so fast it is difficult to keep up with the modern
world. But my message was not about that. I had been to the pharmacist to pick
up a prescription that the doctor had ordered for me. I normally get my
prescriptions delivered, which many of us do when we are older. But this one
did not arrive, so I rang up.
“We
cannot deliver individual items,” I understand this as they could not afford to
be coming backwards and forwards to our houses. Once a month is enough. So, I
went to pick my tablets up feeling out of step with the season which is rapidly
turning to autumn and I was in my summer dress.
The
air is decidedly nippy and I admit to putting the central heating on
occasionally at night, the tomatoes have stopped ripening and we have picked
all our soft fruit. Even our café is changing its menu to soup instead of
salads. Surely, it’s too soon.
But it
is September now and it is too late for our promised new road which was to be
finished by August this year. Instead, they have been back once more and filled
the remaining potholes at the side of the road. So, that seems to be the end of
my Shropshire Council letter that I have kept for so long telling me about the
resurfacing work sometime between April to August 2024. Our promised ‘new
asphalt layer’ seems to have disappeared probably due to ‘budgetary
constraints’, which are mentioned on the back of the letter.
My
friend is downsizing and has been trying to sell her house. It has been very
stressful, what with the prospective buyers coming round and the constant state
of alert needed in her home. Everything must be kept in order just in case
someone comes to look round. Eventually someone did come and they made an offer
on her home. It was accepted and things began to move fast. She agreed to buy
an apartment in town near to the shops and services. It could not have been
better, until last week when someone in the chain of buyers pulled out with
only a week to go before completion.
Now
she is back to square one which is not a good position to be in at this time of
year. I went round for a meal and she is not sure what to do now.
“In
the circumstances we are not having wine,” she said, “we will have what we call
Council Pop.”
It was water.
(Taken from my column in the Shropshire Star)
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