I may have mentioned before that we have been receiving reminders from the NHS that we qualify for booster vaccinations against Covid. Well, in fact, we WERE receiving reminders but since we made appointments that seems to have stopped. This despite the fact that the appointments we made were cancelled at the last minute because the chemist’s shop did not have a pharmacist available to perform the injections. When the appointments were cancelled we were told when we could call in for a “walk-in”, but in the event they had no vaccine!
Last week I was told we could call in any time on Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday morning. Monday we had babysitting duties. Tuesday I just did not get organised. So today looked like the day. Phil and I had decided that we would now go separately for our boosters, rather than go along together. A number of people we know have had a bad reaction to this latest batch of vaccine. Indeed, one of the neighbours was so concerned, having woken up feeling muzzy headed and forgetting bits of everyday vocabulary, that she contacted her GP, who told her to go at once to Accident and Emergency at the hospital, just in case she had had a minor stroke! She spent a day having tests and sitting around waiting for results, which told her she was perfectly fine! Fortunately! And she seemed to get over her brain fog.
We’ve never had a bad reaction to Covid vaccinations … yet … but this is a different vaccine batch. Anyway, on the off-chance that we might react this time, and not wanting to risk both of us being out of sorts at the same time, we took the decision to go along separately - spreading the risk, as it were.
And so this morning, during my usual Wednesday trip to the market at Uppermill, I popped into the chemist’s to try be “boosted”. Their expected pack of vaccine had not yet arrived. They were rather worried as they had appointments from 10.15 onwards, people who might arrive to find no vaccine available! I should phone them later, they told me, to see if they had any possibilities for this afternoon. It began to seem that we were fated not to be “boosted”!
Finally, at lunchtime I managed to get an answer from the chemist’s: any time after 2.00pm. So I shall go back to Uppermill this afternoon … with my fingers crossed!
Someone called Daniel Gray has written a book about fish ‘n’ chips, once a cheap way of feeding the family, now quite an expensive alternative to cooking at home. A contributing factor to the increase in price is a shortage of potatoes. Our soggy winters make it difficult for potato farmers, who have either been unable to plant or have had crops just rot in the wet. Indeed, I have noticed a shortage of potatoes in shops and supermarkets around here. All of that is by the by. A “chippy tea” remains a kind of treat, involving the whole thing of standing in the queue, choosing what you want to eat. Best of course, is to walk along the road eating your fish ‘n’ chips with your fingers, spurning the plastic fork!
Daniel Gray’s book is called “Food of the Cods: How Fish & Chips Made Britain”. I really appreciate the puns on shop names we have in the UK. There is a mobile fish ‘n’ chip van that we have patronised on more than one occasion; it’s name is “Cod in a Trap”, and it is very much Elvis-themed. Other examples are “Contented Sole”, “The Batter of Bosworth”, in Market Bosworth, Leicestershire, “The Frying Squad”, in Bangor, County Down, and “New Cod On The Block”, in Sheffield, South Yorkshire.
Hairdressers and barbers do it too: Jack the Clipper, Little Shop of Hairdos, The Godbarber. My favourite is “Curling me Softly”.
In these serious times I have to seek light relief wherever I can find it,
Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!
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