erald Davies takes part in a supermarket trolley dash — new ‘trolls’ would do well to study his style.
THIS ISLAND LIFENOW the exquisite delights of Christmas shopping have passed into blessed memory for another 12 months, the time is right to introduce a few rules before next year’s festive free-for-all in the Island’s supermarkets.
I suggest we call it the Aisleway Code. These are initial thoughts only and amendments or additions will be gratefully received.
For ease of identification, trolley-pushers are referred to in the new code as 'trolls’.
1 Learner trolls are advised not to practise their skills in the vast expanses of Waitrose and the wide open autobahns of Lidl. This experience will be of little use when shopping in the poky little backstreets of Morrisons, where there are hazards and obstacles at every turn.
2 No doubt for their customers’ amusement, Morrisons provides a series of tricky chicanes. These are thoughtfully created by placing piles of special offers on either side of the narrow aisles at regular intervals. Negotiating them can be great fun but speed control is strongly advised.
3 There have been numerous reports of injury being narrowly avoided when customers dashing out from behind a stack of cheap Chilean Merlot only just manage to avoid a head-on collision with fellow shoppers making an unexpected exit from behind a mountain of 'top value’ toilet tissue.
4 Trolls emerging from the end of an aisle should always give way to those travelling from the left or right and patience must be extended to staff who blockade aisles with supply trolleys. This is regarded as essential maintenance and appropriate consideration must be shown.
5 Those travelling behind '4x4’ trolleys (which seem to be equipped with everything from a baby seat to a commode) must always resist the urge to cut up trolls pushing 'minis’ — those smaller trolleys which resemble a chip drainer on wheels.
6 Trolls who stop without warning in the middle of an aisle to study their shopping list, thereby blocking traffic in both directions, will be subject to on-the-spot fines.
7 These will be doubled if the troll concerned is seen to slouch over said trolley thereby exposing their nether regions (usually of the commodious variety) to potential rear-ending by impatient trolls travelling behind.
8 Such collisions are becoming common-place and it is strongly suspected not all are accidental. However, magistrates understandably tend to take a lenient view of this particular form of aisle rage.
9 Female trolls are advised not to take elderly husbands on supermarket expeditions.
Their grudging, grumpy, monosyllabic presence is not thought to add to the cheerful ambience of the supermarket aisleways — especially during the festive season.
10 Trolls who leave their vehicles unattended in front of busy areas (like the deli and vegetable shelves) can expect to have them clamped and their goods impounded.
Test runs for the Aisleway Code will be held at various Island supermarkets during 2012. Full details to follow at a later date.
Muriel had a way with cakes – and growing jumpers
ANYONE who ever played cricket for or against Havenstreet in the old days will be familiar with Granny Winter’s rock-cakes.
They were the mainstay of our teas, which were taken in the village hall (known as the 'old tin hut’), which was a short stroll from the Hump, where the matches took place.
These rock cakes were formidable lumps of confection, portions of which you were still sucking out from around your back teeth half an hour after play had restarted.
I used to love them and Granny herself (who has since been immortalised by the eponymous pantry at the IW Steam Railway) used to despatch cuppas from a vast, steaming pot and nod unassumingly as she was thanked for her efforts — and her stupendous rock cakes.
Meanwhile, standing in the background, quietly smiling as always, was her daughter-in-law, Muriel.
I attended this dear lady’s funeral in the village church just before Christmas and the truth was finally revealed about those legendary rock-cakes.
During a delightful tribute to her mother, daughter Judy disclosed it was actually Muriel who had baked every single one over many years — but she never had the heart to take the credit away from Granny.
Muriel was a remarkably resourceful woman but even she excelled herself by turning one of husband Jim’s cricket jumpers into two.
It happened after a family holiday in the Lake District many years ago, when the family was caught in a heavy downpour while climbing Helvellyn.
Jim was wearing his cricket jumper as always (he even named his home Winter’s Wicket after all) and when they finally reached the bottom of the peak it had stretched so much in the rain that, in Judy’s words, 'he looked as if he was wearing a long, white woollen dress.’
As soon as they got home, Muriel unpicked the pullover and had so much extra wool she was able to produce two new ones — which lasted Jim for years.