Where Sunday went! Running around. British success! Some protests.

Yesterday I ran round the village, as I regularly do, greeting various dog-walking acquaintances en route, all of us commenting on what a nice day it was. Not for long! Later, not very much later, my daughter and I finally prepared to make our long-planned trip to IKEA. When she arrived to pick me up it was bucketing down with rain. Light rain showers possible, the forecast had said! If that was light I dread to think what heavy rain is really like!

Even though we arrived at IKEA not long after its opening time, the carparks were already quite full. We had to park on the roof section, not a good idea when it is raining but that’s how it goes sometimes! Lots of other people had clearly decided Sunday was a good day to visit IKEA! But we got around in a socially distanced way, being very organised and keeping to our list of planned purchases. Getting out was a nightmare, however, with a queue for the check-outs going on for miles and miles and miles!

Then, a large chunk of the day consumed, we collected granddaughter number one and headed to my house for pasta and my patented red sauce! All good!

But that was my Sunday completely taken up by the time the smallest people had had a bath and had been bundled into pyjamas so that they could go straight to bed when they arrived home.

Today I got up reasonably bright and early to catch a bus to Greenfield. My daughter had asked me to deliver some paperwork to the primary school her small daughter will be attending in September. Such a lot of paperwork! When did you begin to have to write a novel to get your child into a school? It was not the case forty years back when we were sorting out school for our own children.

The so-called light rain was still falling on me as I walked back from Uppermill to Greenfield. And I managed to leave an umbrella on a bus at some point this morning. 

 

It’s a good job I have several others - in assorted colours, of course, so that I can vary the brolly according to my outfit! Colour coordination is all!!

 

We seem to have a new star at Wimbledon, a young lady called Emma Raducanu who is doing very well. When I saw her name, it crossed my mind that she might have some Romanian heritage. It turns out one of her parents is Chinese and the other is indeed Romanian. It must be hard for Priti Patel and her ilk to praise the achievement of a British star from an immigrant background. But then, I suppose she conforms to enough norms to be accepted. And besides, she is winning tennis games! 

According to this article British gypsies feel that their culture and traditions are under threat from legislation proposed by Priti Patel.  As I read the article I thought back to watching Suburru, the Italian film and TV series about gypsy communities in Rome. I hope our gypsies, whose fathers and grandfathers fought for the UK in two world wars, are rather less violent than some of those Roman gypsies we saw portrayed on screen. I also wondered, reading about their strong sense of community, if they have colourful large family compounds like the ones shown in Suburru, and the same flamboyant dress sense. The ones pictured looking after horses - traditional occupation - seem to dress just like the rest of us, but you never know what goes on behind closed doors. But it must be hard to try keep to a traditional semi-nomadic life in caravans i the 21st century, without government legislation making it even more difficult.

 

Another group protesting that their rights are being restricted are wild swimmers. There’s one group in particular who want to be able to swim in a working dock in Bristol harbour. Apparently other countries do manage to combine working docks with places where people can swim recreationally. I can’t say such a leisure pursuit attracts me - I am not a sufficiently confident swimmer to feel secure in such situations - but I do admire the young lady who dressed up in a mermaid suit to make her point!

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!