I walked up to Tesco this morning. The streets are as icy as they were two days ago. The woman ahead of me at Tesco Express hoiked her wire basket onto the counter and a bottle of German wine jumped out and smashed on the floor. Poor kid.
I was reading Great War poetry yesterday afternoon- not the better stuff, but the sadly insufficient stuff about chivalry and sacrifice and how lovely the Sussex countryside is and how the Kaiser is going to be punished by God. It's remarkable how ill-prepared the versifying classes were for dealing not only with modern warfare, but with the modern world. If you took these poems literally you might suppose that England at the time of the Great War was a nation of shepherds and ploughmen- and that the soldiers they turned into wore armour and fought with swords and lances.