A tale of neeps and bog roll


After I held my seat (just) in the December election, a Sutherland crofter stopped me in Tesco.

“Och, I’m pleased to see you made it back, Jamie.”

“So I’ve something in the back of the land rover for you...”

When I went out to the car park he handed me a fertiliser bag - containing five neeps (turnips).

Before I nipped out today to deliver a prescription to a self-isolating lady in her nineties, I put two of the neeps in a pan to boil. Later I added carrots, one old leek, and some ham stock. Not bad soup at all. Needs must, during these difficult times. I knew those neeps would come in useful one day.

Later - glory be! Bog roll in Lidl!! A sight for sore eyes. So I bought one pack of twenty-four. Not two packs. I don’t want to panic buy. No sir.

The staff in our shops and supermarkets are being wonderful during the coronavirus epidemic. Kindly and endlessly patient, very occasionally in the face of customers who really ought to behave themselves better. I hope they all get a pay rise.

Phone rings. Time for another delivery.


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