The last day, the last day, that is, before the shops close for two days. It will be two days before it will be possible to pass through the doors of Waitrose. So people piled in today. There were queues, long ones, at all the tills. (Meanwhile, there was intelligence to the effect that Sainsbury's was full and that, for those inside, part of the fun was queueing for up to an hour. Hurrah for Christmas, I say.
Still, the bike was better. Kit on, no heed of the voices which said 'Take it easy. Just sit down', pump the tyres, and then it was time to climb the steep slope to Hurst Farm Road. Legs of steel. Up the steeper slope from the roundabout. How long is it since I've been on a bike; there's still time to return home and make some tea. Up Vowels Lane, past a Santa express. What is the lure of steam trains? To the top, to Turner's Hill (Who was Turner?) Cappuchino and a hot sausage roll. Idling in Crawley Down. Down the hill to Felbridge. Along Imberhorne road. Back to the Close. Oh, is that the time? Pity. There'll be no time for a swim.
Christmas in a non-Christian country. I have spent Christmas, in Arabia, but in the company of British. Jingle bells in Thai? I wonder if there is the same inclination to buy loads of food; probably, there isn't as the shops will be open tomorrow and the day after and every day, as far as one can make out.
An article in The Economist challenges customary notions about inequality, income inequality, within a country. The familiar measures, the familiar proxies for economic well-being, may be misleading. The data on consumption show what we have spent but not the benefits, the utility, we derived from the spending. According, so The Economist reports, the evident difference between what people spend is wider than the benefits which the spenders report they gained from the spending.
I have sent more cards, listed more cards, and written some letters. The letter to Michael Hill remains.
In conclusion, ahead of the preparation of my simple meal, in the company of a book, I wonder about the latest measurements which I sent. There being no acknowledgement, I am prey to the thought that they have not been received, that the industrious tailor has already worked to the original ones.
Hurry, hurry to the internet cafe.
Stayathome.
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Having just thought afresh about The Economist article, I'm assured again of the benefits of marginal utility theory. A hot sausage roll, priced at 99p, on a cold day, it is plausible to assert, will provide as many measures of benefit as the pudding, priced £3.50, taken after a substantial main course. The spending is no reliable guide to the benefits derived from the spending. What do you think?
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