Friday, October 3, 2008
Fantasy Camp and the Village Shop
I understand that some middle-aged men who, like most of their contemporaries, never made it to the big leagues pay to go to 'Fantasy' baseball camps where they put on uniforms and rush about pretending to live the baseball life.
It is the fantasy of many middle-aged women to live in an English country village.
Needless to say, I did not pay but merely went to stay with a friend who included me in all her activities.
These included decorating the church for Harvest Festival and helping out at the village shop.
Needless to say as well, the effort at the top was not done by us but someone much more accomplished.
These are bits we used in a bigger wilder (messier?) effort which included vegetables.
I still think the picture at the top is quintessentially fall/autumn.
The village shop is manned/womaned by a rota of volunteers. I'm not sure if it would survive without them.
We did the 9-11am stint on Sunday morning.
Here we are helped with the cash register. I hadn't worked in a shop since scanners and bar codes were invented.
In my day you had to work out the change yourself. Now it tells you. Hm......no math required.
The stock in the shop was wonderful. Anglophile foodies -if they exist - will discern
Marmite/Branston Pickles/Saxa Salt/Birds Custard/ HP Sauce and Carr's Water Biscuits amongst other things.
You can also buy Pinot Grigio and Pain au chocolat which weren't available in the village shops of my youth.
This is me as a trainee shop assistant. Maybe, if the economy continues to tank, this is a new career opportunity. In the long run, I would prefer a bookshop.
This cheery little boy offered to pose as a satisfied customer.
Note: Blogging allows us to make contact with all sorts of worlds both horribly sad and relentlessly cheerful.
My friend Maryam is currently in Rwanda. I recommend her deeply moving recent posts. Not for those who prefer to keep their heads in the sand.
What Possessed Me, on the other hand, has a picture to make you smile.