Dreary

This may well be the dreariest photo on Blip today, but it's the only one I took. When I woke this morning, it seemed as if it was still dark outside; by the time I left the house at 8am the darkness had morphed into this miserable greyness. However, Morrison's car park was almost empty, and only a few lost souls - like that woman in pink - were drifting around under the leaden sky. By the time I emerged, an hour later, the rain was battering down, and I had to rearrange the bags piled in my trolley in an attempt to keep packets dry as I wrestled said trolley to the far end of the car park - where the nice wide spaces are. By the time I'd finished my trousers were soaking; I hurled the trolley into the shelter, myself into the car and headed for home ...

And ten minutes later I was back. My trolley had been so full I'd hung a bag of fresh meat on the hook at the handle, and that's where I'd left it. Only when I looked in the shelter, there was one other trolley shoved in, and no bag. Into the shop again. Helpful security guard used his radio to ask if anyone had handed it in, checked with a couple of his colleagues. Nothing. I bought replacement items and left, to find the security man going round all the shelters to check them. Nothing. 

By this time I was soaked, cold, fed up and feeling lousy again. The gas man had arrived and was dismantling the living room fire. I dumped all the bags in the kitchen and made myself some porridge. (Yes, I washed my hands, mum ...) I ate the porridge standing in the kitchen and felt slightly better. Gas man went off for his breakfast and I had some toast and tea. Then I posted a message on our community council's Facebook page, really just to make me feel better - by this time I was hoping that someone had actually needed what was in my bag. The rain continued to fall. We had some coffee. I did a little work on slides for an online talk. 

It was during a Zoom vestry meeting in the afternoon that the phone rang. I ignored it, let Himself take it. Turned out that the person who had taken my bag off the trolley had seen the message - and all the replies to it - and had rung to say they had it, in their fridge. It's apparently going to appear tomorrow. 

So there are several responses to this. For example, it's good to know that it wasn't just a bit of opportunism. It's wonderful/terrifying to see the power of social media in a small town. The interconnectedness of the town is equally terrifying/wonderful/useful. But taking it home? Really?

Meanwhile the day slid from grey back to black; I did some more work (how can I have forgotten already how to prepare slides on Keynote?); I felt increasingly seedy. The road out of Dunoon, up Loch Eck, was closed for several hours (flooding?) and the closure of the Rest and Be Thankful was announced. I've dozed over the telly for a few hours and now I shall probably not sleep. Surely tomorrow will have more to commend it? 

A better photo anyway - better than the ramp into Morrison's with all the trolleys that no-one's got round to pushing back into the store. I'll try.