Take the bus out to Pyla. And nearly miss it, or more accurately it nearly misses us, as the driver is late leaving the station and speeding along in the centre lane hoping not to have to notice would be passengers standing at the stop, though he does pull over in response to our waving.
J helping Bill repair damage to their car port done by termites. Jane off by taxi to sign the insurance papers before Toyota will start work on their vehicle. As the damage isn’t major, except insofar as any damage to the body of today’s cars-without-true bumpers is costly, one can only assume that the garage has had bad experience with unpaid bills and wants the guarantee from the insurance people rather than Bill and Jane. So I assemble the apple crumble to accompany the lamb in the slow cooker. Always slightly disconcerted by the main meal appearing midday, but it’s lovely.
Stop at Lidl on the way back hoping to pick up bread. There is some rebate in living here, apart that is from the fresh fruit and vegetables, the sunshine, and (usually) the warmth. Total bill €15.53 ($23.45 CAD, £13.67 - and no, I have absolutely no idea how the pound is holding its value against all logic). Anyway, the receipt shows that for that grand sum we got 250 grams of Irish butter, a packet of shortbread style German butter cookies, a 200 gram dark chocolate bar with whole almonds, and four bottles of South African shiraz/cabernet sauvignon. Not our idea of a balanced diet - just the things that Lidl is best for. Produce usually wildly overpriced, though one does see other people buying it. Multigrain bread very nice, but this makes twice they’ve been out of it.
Now finished Heroic Failure as well as the reread of Down and Out in Paris and London. Poverty, and even homelessness definitely worse in the thirties, although seemingly less actual sleeping outside in all weathers. But the worst accommodation actually charged men to sit along a bench and lean forward against a rope for the night - then cut the rope at five in the morning. Orwell does definitely say cut, although untying it would seem more prudent. And, in England at least, tramps did tramp. From one shelter to another, normally in different municipalities. It prevented them from settling in and becoming a permanent burden to any given town. And, one can’t help thinking, gave them no time or energy to join a revolution. Nor would the usual meal of tea with two slices of bread and margarine have provided much strength for rebelling.
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