This is the kind of week where I wouldn’t have been surprised to receive a complaint the number eleventy-seven didn’t taste right. Or they couldn’t hear the colour yellow. Is there something in the air that I’ve missed? It’s not unusual for things to wheech past leaving me oblivious to what’s going on.
Recent news isn’t massively encouraging. As England heads into lockdown, north of the border we’re being divided into tiers. I was interviewed for local news, in my capacity as a NE Fife business owner, regarding the new regulations. I spoke passionately about how supportive a community we’re lucky to be a part of. About how surrounding businesses are working collaboratively to survive and how wonderful the customers are. They played one part over the air, one small sentence. Naturally it was my answer to the question ‘how would I stop Tier 3 customers from coming into Fife?’ I simply replied ‘we can only hope people adhere to government guidelines to ensure a quick resolution.’ This naturally made me sound like a lunatic patrolling the Fife end of the bridge with a pitch fork and torch watching for the dodgy ‘rona-ridden tier three folks trying to sneak into the Kingdom. Just the kind of publicity a small independent business needs during tough times. Lesson learnt. I am not meant for radio and in future will stick to the written word.
We had people placing orders and not collecting or cancelling. Quiet days. Bills, bills and more bills and many hospital appointments AND an American election to keep track of. At time of writing we’re still waiting, praying and hoping…
It just feels like everything is gearing back up again and everyone’s patience is wearing thin. The news is desperate for stories other than Covid 19 statistics or Boris’ latest stunt. Today has brought constant updates on the American election and as the world watches with their jaws on their lap, we pretend to be smugly observing from a more civilised situation. Oh do we now? Sooo civilised that our PM today had to apologise for getting up and walking out of the House of Commons because his predecessor was asking questions he didn’t like. I despair. Regardless of your political views, my kids behave better! However, as this is supposed to be a light hearted column I’ll step away from my soapbox.
So goodbye 2020, Halloween and Guy Fawkes, and hello shops crammed with mince pies and candy canes. The multitude of yuletide adverts are also back. Kevin the Carrot makes a handsome Tom Cruise and whoever made Goose an actual turkey is a marketing genius. I’m aware I’m easily pleased. Tesco have promised to ‘welcome everyone’, Amazon has us doing ballet on rooftops and Marks & Spencer have pimped up your gin by adding lights and sparkly gold flakes. The battle of the supermarkets is on.
But what about the king? The shining star. The much anticipated John Lewis Christmas advert. We’ve previously had snowmen, dragons and even a man on the moon. Normally I can be found donning a pair of striped pyjamas to watch Elf about now or weeping over a home video of the bairns singing Little Donkey but this year? This year I’ll admit I am almost dreading the John Lewis Christmas advert. Will we have Sir Tom and his tinsel clad walker helped by Adel in a nurses uniform singing We’ll Meet Again? Or a group of kids holding teddies singing to their Grannies over Zoom? How soon before we think a Santa costume clad Joe Wicks appears distributing gifts whilst Mary Berry hands out still warm slices of freshly baked banana bread?
This year I just can’t. I will instantly become a major share holder in Kleenex and himself will have to hide the credit card before I start donating to every worthy cause mentioned during the ad breaks. Between these and the Pride of Britain or DIY SOS I can found weeping and rocking in a corner. Thank goodness for Sky+. It’s no coincidence I’m only allowed to watch box sets from the middle of November through ’til January. I even cried when the ant died in ‘Honey I shrunk the kids’. More fool the mister for thinking that was a safe movie choice.
