This blog takes me back ....
... to the 70s ... as a kid ... reading me Mum's NZ Womans Weekly ... back when it was 100+ pages fat, printed in black and white on newsprint (colour cover, mind) ... 'Over The Tea Cups' I think it was called ... no twice told tales please ...
OK, so it's irrational, but the craving for things you value/crave increases in direct proportion to the difficulty of getting hold of them.
To wit: Anglo-Saxon Xmas stuff (and other comestibles) when you're living in Germany.
So we pop over to London for a couple of days before Xmas - carol service at St Martins in the Fields, Tate Modern, Hatchards for books and - on the way to the airport - Marks and Spencer in Hammersmith for the essentials.
Check with the folks we're staying with when they open on a Sunday - an utterly convincing "10 am".
Get there at 9:50.
Wrong by an hour.
Quick calculation: Flight leaves at 12:20, have to be there at 11:40, M&S opens at 11, shopping takes 15 minutes, 5 minutes to the tube, 40 minutes to the airport......SHIT.
So I call the store, get the manager on the line and give him the sob story - the disappointment in the faces of the (non-existent) littlies when I have to break the news that there'll be no Xmas pud this year. No, no mince pies either. Xmas crackers? Sorry. Just bratwurst, sauerkraut and dry bread.
"No worries" he says through his tears "Come round to the staff entrance and grab what you need. Let someone know when you're finished and I'll have someone open a till for you"
I felt just like the Queen (or Phil the Greek) must do when they open up Harrods for their Royal Shopping Tour.
So I zip around, with everyone asking whether I'm finding everything and do I need any help, fill up the trolley, they open up a till, manager comes over and wishes me a Merry Xmas and we're away with tons of time to spare.
Wrote to M&S in Baker St, commending the manger for enterprise and compassion.
I hope they knighted him...