woolies4A slightly sad, reflective moment on Sunday as I was planting a few seeds, with the munchkin. After digging around in a large carrier bag for fibre pots I pulled out a little pack of cardboard planting modules which the junior gardener pronounced “Really Great!”, in the way of small children, who love things that are in scale with them.

I then noticed where they had come from and how cheap they had been. Whilst I never shopped at Woolies very much, it was certainly the place for all kinds of bargains and things that were just not sold elsewhere. 

On reflection, I would have doubtless picked the pots up on a Monday, because we sometimes used to go to the café cum restaurant of our local branch then. It wasn’t great food, but their chips were OK and unlike MaccaD’s they were unsalted, and the place wasn’t fullof gobby youths, chavvy scroungers and other tedious shitheads.

Like our Mondays, Woolies are gone forever and not only that – so is the possibilty of my nipper being able to experience the teenage right of passage that pinching the pic’n’mix presented.

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