Bags for Wife

Yesterday was my shopping day.

These days I visit the biggest Scot-Mid in Edinburgh (Leith) for all my necessary items (although I have been known to visit Lidl for deals on suspicious foods, such as an octopus in a jar)

It’s a BIG Scot-Mid, easy enough to lose yourself in, it took quite some time to gather my meats, vege and sauces, but was well worth it.

The Indian lady who served me was exited to see a wide array of curry ingredients coming towards her on the conveyor belt, she soon put her enquiring mind into action – are you making a curry? What kind of curry would it be? What meat would it contain? Who would it be for? Would it be for my wife?

WithWife?

Me?

Surely not!

We discussed the possibility of the checkout lady attending my meal and then another lady in the queue soon enquired about attending. I knew neither really wanted to come, just a kind attempt to provide some comfort to a lonely single young man. This three-way-role-play was quite fun, until they starting asking for my address, I’ll just make sure I double lock the door from now on.

After discussions about my relationship status, I was told I would have to pay for my bags.

This may be company policy in Lidl, we all know that’s how they make their money, luring you in with cheap beans and then forcing you to buy a bag or carry 26 cans in your pocket.

I had already bought too much for my pocket, so opted for two 10p bags for life instead.

I realise these have the added benefit of saving the environment because people are more likely to re-use the bags they pay for, but this would require me to carry them everywhere just-in-case.

The old free bags got so much more re-use in my house, in small bins, storing socks, carrying rubbish from living room to kitchen, making ad-hoc swimming trunks or doubling up as handy rain garments.

These bags for life will get no such use, so far I store them in a secret cupboard, ready for the day when I’ll need a robust bag. Surely this is so much worse, I’ll have thousands soon, not willing to use them, not willing to give them back.

What a dilemma.

I bet my wife would know what to do with them.

Previosuly, on WithWood

I’ve been away so long, not sure about sitting here and recalling all of my adventures, I don’t have the time or the memory capacity.

Forwards, not backwards, sometimes sideways, but not often. So, instead of letting you all in on the past few weeks WithOutWood, I thought I would just delve deep into my phone and show you what we achieved.

Here we go…

Hay-fever

A WithWood special – but for now summer has been and gone, time to replace my summer sneezes with festival flu.

Festival Furore

I forgot that the festival was happening so soon and left it too late to buy the cheaper tickets, I’ve already started to become annoyed by tourists – which is a great sign of me finally being a Scottish.

Sculpture

My housemate got play-doh for his birthday, I couldn’t help but rekindle my love for Henry Moore.

The phallus was later thrown against the living room wall, in years to come people will wonder why there is a green stain in our flat, they’ll never guess! Unless they are you.

Meat

The local curry house seemed to have some of the strangest meat in their bins…

I don’t search all bins, just interesting ones, the smell from the restaurant was amazing, but the screams from the kitchen were a little over the top.

Music

Polish DJs are amazing, but I was slightly dissapointed by the foam party only lasting one hour.

Rested

Another speciality, my feet settled in to the new flat pretty quickly, although my hands are a different story altogether.

So that’s my life in a pistachio nut shell, I think we’re all up to speed now. Soon I can update you on my new pet, my new pub, my new friend and my new shoes. Excited? I doubt it.

Wood

These Shoes Were Made For Walking

There comes a time in every man’s life when his shoes let him down. This occurred a number of months ago, I have done a lot of walking recently for this blog investigating every street looking for blog worthy events.

My main problem is the girth of my foot, they are long enough, but not in proportion. This results in broken edges, I go through a pair of converse every six months. I could go for longer shoes, but what would I do with the spare room at the front?

The cold winter air blows right in and cold feet take my attention away from my sandwich. I know some people have it bad out there, but try a day in my shoes, you’ll feel blessed when you return to shoes with only one hole.

I did attempt to buy new shoes of a similar style, laceless (it saves five minutes each and every day), but this resulted in more problems.

I selected a pair and demanded some the same size as each of my feet. When the shoe man returned he came with two pairs.

“We don’t have your size, so I brought two pairs that aren’t your size”

Good stuff, I slipped on the smaller pair first and declared that they were far too small.

“They’ll get bigger though”

They may get a little bigger, but if they were my size they would be instantly big enough. I was not prepared to go through such an ordeal.

The bigger paid were far too big, this was no surprise, bigger things are always bigger.

The shoe man then attempted to hard sell me the smaller shoes, what a fool, I will return one day in the hope that they have my size. Then I can walk the streets without the fear of anything entering my shoes without my permission.

Next week….. The story of the new socks.