Strange behaviour in the dairy aisle

I don’t like shopping on a Saturday. Give me a quiet, no nonsense week day every time. The week day mornings when people know what they want, where it is and rarely get in my way. Sadly, I couldn’t avoid it today. One look into the gaping chasm of the fridge had me feeling like old mother Hubbard. I girded my loins and headed into town.

Starbucks was almost empty, which is unusual on a Saturday morning. As I drank my latte (brilliantly prepared by Sam) Sue came and told me of her possible plans for next year. It all sounds very exciting. She also told me how much she loves baking.

Then I ventured into Waitrose along with a rather large number of other trolley driving shoppers.

One bright spot was that Debbie was serving at the fish counter. I needed some salmon, little realising that I also needed a bit of cheery chat. Debbie, knowing her stuff, amply provided me with both. She was looking forward to wine o’clock which, as I told her, is much later than beer o’clock. She said that was good because she didn’t get off work until 2:30pm.

Smiling from our conversation, I then headed for the dairy aisle. This is where I encountered a very odd man. The only reason I encountered him was because I wanted a tub of yoghurt and he was standing right in front of what I wanted. I guess I could have asked him to move but I was far too intrigued by his actions.

He took all the little tubs of yoghurt off the top shelf and put them in his trolley. He then shuffled the little pots around in order to have them all in the plastic trays they come in. The now filled trays he replaced on the top shelf. This effectively tidied up the top shelf. He had three tubs left in his trolley which he wheeled away.

I next ran into him in the baking aisle where he was doing something similar with the flour.

Back at home, Mirinda was waiting for me so we could go for brunch at the Holly Bush ahead of one of her Frensham Country Walks.

There was no cricket but it was still lovely sitting in the sun, reading while I waited for her return.

My afternoon was fully engaged with the commencement of hostilities in the Battle of Mount Laundry. There’s been no activity since we left for Devon. A few skirmishes later showed little difference but, as I said to Mirinda, the foothills must be cleared before there can be any attempt to take the summit. This Battle may take some time.

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