Sublime and Ridiculous

The last few days have provided me with personal examples of the worst sort of product of the consumer society, and not far off the best.

To begin with the worst: I bought a belt at Sainsbury's on May 17th. It looked smart but casual, something to wear with jeans. Today, May 29th, I returned it just before it had time to break. The backing had peeled off, and it was nearly worn through. At the customer service desk there was no argument, just immediate repayment. It left a bad taste nevertheless, this was a waste of effort, something so temporary and so poorly done.

The best by way of contrast is a pair of fairly smart brown boots (the sort you can just about wear with a suit if needs be) that I bought I think before my now sixth-former son was born. They have finally worn through at the sole. I am tempted to have them repaired, but as I bought a second pair at the time (oxblood rather than brown) that I have worn far less, perhaps not.

Those boots were not expensive - if memory serves a pair cost £15, reduced drastically at I think Clark. Doubtless they were not stylish enough. But they lasted maybe 20 years.

If all shoes lasted 20 years would shoe shops go bust? Not necessarily, I have bought other pairs meanwhile.  But carry such workmanship over to other things and we would be depleting world resources at a far slower, maybe even sustainable rate.

Dry - or it Could Be Wet

Five or six years ago every gardening section of the Sundays and every green-fingered programme on TV here would feature ways to prepare your patch for drought. Experts would suggest plants that needed little water, come up with methods of saving the few drops that fell from the skies, and visit sun-drenched lands for insights into dealing with dryness.

Since then it has poured down every bloody summer. Much of the rest of the year too.

It is not just the domestic gardener who is suffering of course, commercial growers have had poor yields: wheat crops too wet to cut; drowned fields of cabbages and carrots; orchards whose blossom and the hope of a harvest has washed away.

The upshot for us is that we're wondering about a polytunnel again. Not for the allotment, as sadly they offer too tempting a target for vandals who think slashing the plastic while nobody is around is the height of daring. They are not things of beauty, but we love growing our own food, and maybe could camouflage it to avoid it being seen from the house, our garden being helpfully long.

It is the second half of May, and we already worry that this year's harvest will be poor. Nature has a way of fighting back, but if the cold weather - we lit a fire yesterday and it was very welcome - and the daily rain continue then potatoes and strawberries will rot again, courgettes struggle to get started, and salads look bruised and battered.

British weather is seeing higher peaks and lower troughs, the extreme weather events of newsroom cliche. Given the choice I'd prefer dry to drown though.

Legally Required

My son has started to look at universities and university courses. Cue parental comments on time passing so quickly - though certain things have not changed: every prospectus must apparently have a picture of students sitting/lying on the grass, just as they did in the late 18th century when I was a nervous sixth-former.

Which led me to think of other such tropes and covert legal requirements. A related item is the newspaper image on A level results day of three pretty girls jumping in the air.

One from my business-travel days is odder: every international flight I ever went on had a nun or a priest as a passenger. These days I wonder if they were air marshals in disguise.

And on the roads it is apparently illegal for BMWs to drive in the inside lane of any motorway.