Just call me Margot Leadbetter

At the moment, there’s a bit of a supply issue in Britain. A lack of HGV drivers has seen supplies at some supermarkets dwindling away, leaving big empty shelves. This has been going on for a while. In fact, we almost didn’t return from Sweden because of it.

Then, last weekend, there was the news that the delivery of petrol was going to be a problem.

Just like the Great Toilet Roll Frenzy of 2020, people started buying as much fuel as they could and filling any container they could find.

Images of people filling cars then plastic containers, flooded social media. The government started saying people should just buy like normal and things would be fine. Some garages put a limit of £30 on petrol purchases.

At least one national newspaper claimed the need to stockpile fuel was leaked by the manager of an HGV firm.

And gradually petrol stations started closing down their pumps as the petrol tanks under them emptied. The long queues started disappearing as garage after garage put out ‘none left here’ signs on their forecourts.

We are going on holiday next week, driving to Yorkshire. So petrol is a concern. Today we bit the bullet and went looking.

We didn’t have to go far. We filled Max with the more expensive super unleaded stuff and then drove back home.

Meanwhile, at pubs all across the land, these signs are springing up…

You have to laugh, don’t you?

Not that the weather was anything to laugh about. The rain was torrential between bouts of sunshine. Not nice at all. It even made watching the TV difficult. Good job we’re watching something Belgian with subtitles.

Then, just as I was about to serve dinner, Mirinda said she had to tell me something that would make me cranky.

I stood open-mouthed as she informed me that she had three of her team coming over tomorrow. To the house. And she was right. I was cranky.

I’m going to be making quiche and shortbread in the morning as well as running around tidying up.

At least it wasn’t Thursday.

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