Disaster struck yesterday when I turned up at Papershop Village to be told there were NO GUARDIANS to be had, because, apparently, the lorry which delivers the entire Scottish print run had broken down (“Bit of a wasted trip then?” asked the other half. “Well, not entirely, as I got to ride my bike for an hour”). This was a bit of a blow because we’ve got the pre-paid vouchers for the paper now which do save us a bit of money but only if you can actually buy a newspaper with them (and we’ll draw a veil over the fact that literally a week after I finally decided to sign up to the scheme, they were advertising a free case of wine to new subscribers, and no, that doesn’t rankle AT ALL and I won’t burn with resentment over it for the next 40 years, I should be over it in ooh, another couple of decades or so). I rang the missing bits of the paper helpline (“if you have been affected by any of the issues raised by this blog post you can call …”) to report an entire paper gone missing and they did offer to put one in the post the next morning but I decided on mature reflection that getting Monday’s paper sometime around Wednesday lunchtime was a bit pointless and decided to go Guardianless, although we did print out the quick crossword (apparently the Monday Sudoku is too easy to bother with).
This morning I was relieved to see that the post office on the way into Bigtown had Guardians in stock – and that it was bucking the trend of all the other papers and not leading on the royal baby but still sticking with the important Scottish Independence story – so grabbed one on my way to yoga. As I was meeting the other half in town for lunch at the miraculous Greek deli (miraculous because after a year in business it is still serving actual Greek food and not haggis pannini, although they are adding chips to their souvlaki) and then almost-futile glove shopping (apparently, one only buys black leather ladies’ gloves as a gift these days, so they only appear in the shops before Christmas, although men are free to treat themselves to nice warm fingers whenever they like; when I did track a pair down in the British Heart Foundation shop, of all places, I was asked if I was doing some early Christmas shopping. She seemed quite taken aback at the news that I was buying them to wear them on my bike – “You’ve made me feel really unfit now!”), so I only actually opened the paper once I’d cycled home, made myself a cup of coffee and settled down on the bench to catch up with the day’s news, when I discovered that it was in fact Monday’s.
I’ve texted the other half to try and pick up today’s paper, but I’m not sure quite what I’ll do if he does as he won’t be home until after nine. Probably just finish reading Monday’s and save Tuesday’s for tomorrow. I may not ever actually catch up, but it’s not as if it really matters as the news is out of date by the time I read the paper anyway. As long as nobody posts any spoilers on the quick crossword, I should be fine.