Skip to main content

Social distance

I completed my new form issued by the government and went off to the village shop this morning.  There were three customers, all keeping their 2 metre distance, or nearly, it is a small shop, then in came a man with a shopping trolley.  I stepped away, he came closer.  I went to the apples, mostly bad, he followed me.  I went to the other end of the shop but there he was.  Eventually with my vegetables and fruit in my bag I went to the check out.  A man joined the short queue keeping his distance but the man with trolley joined in pushing himself between me and the other customer, who took two large steps backwards, while I took two steps forwards.  Unfortunately that meant I was too far away from the counter to pack my shopping and pay.  I did contemplate asking the server to toss me my goods and I could try to catch them in my bag,  but I reluctantly moved back one step.  No-one had spoken, not one word, not even a 'bonjour'.  Perhaps the act of opening one's mouth and breathing out air is scaring everyone.  I packed my shopping, said 'merci' and 'au revoir' and left.

The new social interactions are tricky, worse than knowing whether 2 kisses or one kiss on each cheek is the norm.  Will France ever be the same again?

Trump is worried.  Not about the virus, the huge increase in people dying or the lack of equipment needed to keep people alive, but whether the situation with the economy will stop him being re-elected.    He lives in the world of delusion while Dr Fauci tries to keep telling the truth.  When asked how is coping with Trump during press conferences he said 'well I can't jump in front of the mike and stop him.'  Why not?  Dr Fauci lived across the street from us when we lived in New York and his kids and mine were at school together.  He is about 5ft nothing while Trump is over 6ft.  He is not winning on knowledge and intelligence so he may as well try tackling him to the ground.  

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

No-one here when I need them

My visitors have departed and I am once again packing my bags and heading off.  But wait a minute, my son would like me to bring a bookcase with me, solid wood and heavy.  Will it even go in the car and if I do manage to carry it out to the car and lift it single handedly into the car will there be room for my suitcase?  It is a work in progress.  I managed to get it to the car, a neighbour waved bonjour,  and drove off in his car.  Did he not notice me struggling with a bookcase 4ft by 3ft?  I always meant to be one of those helpless women whom everyone rushes to help but somehow I never quite made it and frankly it is usually easier to just 'do it yourself'. A wild boar strolled past the house this morning, perhaps he could give me a hand.
Post a Comment
Read more

Equality

 I don't want to hear another person  say that women should be equal to men.  There is no 'should' about it, women ARE equal to men but they are not treated equally.  It has never occurred to me that I am  not equal to any man.  Am I treated equally?  Sometimes yes, sometimes no.  It requires a step change in the way women think of themselves as being equal before we can hope for attitudes, legislation, economics to  follow and that is my rant for the day. Ever since I have lived in France I have noticed a stark difference between the French and the British sense of humour.  The dry, irreverent humour of the British is completely wasted on the French, and the Dutch and the Americans sometimes for that matter.  Clearly the British humour is unique.  Yesterday I gave an article to a French friend to read.  It was a humorous piece, self deprecating about a woman suffering an attack by an insect on her face with hideous result...
Post a Comment
Read more

Mondays

 Last Monday my son and daughter in law were due to catch the 8.15am ferry from Portsmouth to Caen.  It was 6.45am when I stepped out of the shower and heard my phone  going.  I snatched it up.  It was a video  call.  'Mum, we have big problems here,'  and before I could speak he thrust the phone into the hands of a Brittany ferries' staff member and said, 'Talk  to my mum.'  Barely conscious of my wet, tangled hair and trying to cover myself up with a  towel which thought gravity was fun, I asked what the problem was.  Apparently they had the wrong vaccination certificates and were being refused passage.  I asked what I could do and she said they could go and get a test and take a later ferry.  'Where is the nearest test centre in Portsmouth?'  I asked.  'There isn't one,' she replied, 'there  is one in Southampton, or Havant.'  What!  No test centre in Portsmouth?  They both have learni...
1 comment
Read more