I looked at the calendar today. I knew it was February but what confused me was the year.
At a recent family event, we were discussing, with the older ones, what it was like in the war. We still have relatives who remember the war. They didn’t fight or anything – except amongst themselves and the kids from the next street – but they well remember living in the immediate post-war era with food shortages and rationing, and still much damage, particularly in urban areas.
Move forward 70-plus years and we have food shortages and rationing and one look at our roads and you would think the Luftwaffe had just been over on a raid.
Now, as far as I know, there is no shortage of cat food but ‘he who must do as he is told’ does give away his Yorkshire roots when he looks at the price label and bellows, “HOW MUCH?” Hey, I can’t help it if I have taste and a fussy pallet which dislikes that which I may have eaten yesterday.
Apparently, according to the cigar smoking, pill swapping, ex-health minister, now, strangely in charge of the environment (is it any wonder the water companies are delighted to still be able to discharge sewage into rivers and the sea while she ‘waters down’ – no pun intended – the legislation to stop them) we still have turnips.
These are probably the same turnips who voted for Brexit and who now snipe from the side lines as part of the European Research Group whose mission, it seems, is to find out where the snow is for the winter season on the slopes.
Now, I am not blaming Brexit for the shortage of vegetables. I know it has been cold in Spain. Indeed, my neighbours have just returned from half term in Spain, and they had to buy winter clothes. Have you ever tried buying sweaters and gloves in Benalmadena?
Yes, the cold weather in the Iberian Peninsula has reduced the salad crops but it is true to say that what is being produced is staying within the EU rather than go through the rigmarole of exporting to the UK.
Of course, they could just send it to Ireland and we can then slip it across the border into Northern Ireland and across the Irish Sea.
Just on Northern Ireland and the attempts to unpick the Northern Ireland protocol: Remind me, who negotiated this crock of poo and signed up to it? Wasn’t it the same Boris Johnson who now says it is a blight on UK sovereignty? Don’t you think the man would jigger off and do speeches for loadsamoney to pay off his loans?
But back to only one cucumber and a pack of tomatoes. To be honest, in winter, we don’t do a lot of salads, but we are always up for a challenge. So, this week, we set off – ‘She who must be obeyed/editor’, ‘he who must.. etc.’ and me, yes ME, having to SHOP!
So, that is three cucumbers and three packs of tomatoes as we all went in separately, ignoring eye contact, pretending we were not together. Alongside lots of other ‘single’ shoppers doing precisely the same. Tesco (other supermarkets are available) don’t care. ‘When it’s gone, it’s gone’ is their motto as they still make their profit, which, by the way, when they last reported in April last year, had an increase in pre-tax profits from £1.1bn to £2.2bn.
I have also been down in east Lancashire for couple of days and if the greengrocers in Pendle are anything to go by, there is no shortage of veg and salad stuff there. On one market stall I also glimpsed Cornish new potatoes……. Surely it can’t be long before the gorgeous Bootle new potatoes are with us.
So, the problem is bad weather in Spain and high energy costs forcing the producers who grow under glass to abandon the season. Pity, as it just as the gas prices are falling.
Of course, while no one could have predicted Comrade Putin invading Ukraine – sorry, carrying out a special military operation – in 2016 it was possible to look beyond the lies of Johnson, Gove and Rees-Mogglet and work out that we were committing economic suicide by leaving the EU.
Yes, we took back control of our borders, (and more and more are taking to the cross channel small boat service to arrive in Dover) and we took control of our legislation. We also took control of our short, medium and long term destiny. While I hope the medium and long term are better, the short term has been economically disastrous.
There is, however, some good news. While getting my one cucumber and one pack of tomatoes, I managed to squirrel away a large bag of Dreamies and some tins of tuna in brine. So excited were the servants to be eating salad this week, they didn’t notice.
About Cumbria Cat
Born in Cumberland and, from April, will be back living in Cumberland, having spent most of the past 50 years in some place called Cumbria, this cat has used up all nine lives as well as a few others.
Always happy to curl up on a friendly lap, the preference is for a local lap and not a lap that wants to descend on the county to change it into something it isn’t. After all, you might think Cumbria/Cumberland/Westmorland is a land forged by nature – the glaciers, the rivers, breaking down the volcanic rocks or the sedimentary layers – but, in reality, the Cumbria we know today was forged by generations of local people, farmers, miners, quarriers, and foresters.
This cat is a local moggy, not a Burmese, Ocicat or Persian, and although I have been around the block a few times, whenever I jump, I end up on my feet back in my home county. I am passionate about the area, its people, past, present and future, and those who come to admire what we hold dear, be it lakes and mountains, wild sea shores, vibrant communities or the history as rich and diverse as anywhere in the world.
