Off (with) My Trolley

Photo Copyright: Maggie May

Since retiring, Harry has always done the main shopping. He usually walks a mile and a half to the main supermarket and back. There are smaller ones nearer to where we live, in fact, we'er not more than five minutes away from the nearest shop. However, Harry likes his favourite supermarket and collects points, special coupon offers and things like that.

Now that he's started chemo, he hasn't the strength to do it, so I have been really struggling with shopping at the same place and found that the trolley I had been pulling behind me was seriously aggravating my back pain. 

I tried a back pack but that was only any good for very lightweight things, so the tins and cartons that I needed caused aggravation too.

I had seen little old ladies pushing trollies with four wheels, in front of them and I thought that I wouldn't need one until I was a lot older. In fact, I can remember when I was disposing of my mother's belongings after she died, that she had one of those contraptions in her garage, but twelve years ago, I felt I was far too young to accept such a thing, so it ended in a Charity shop along with a whole pile of other aids that I wish I'd kept. Some how or other I always feel much younger than others might feel I am. Its only when I see myself in a mirror or shop window when I realise that I am a little old lady and that comes as quite a shock.

Whilst my daughter was staying with me over Christmas, she signed me up for Home Deliveries from the said supermarket and showed me how to place an order. After she left, I wasn't confident to do this on my own for the first time, so I postponed the idea until I could get some one to help me and realised that it might be a long time before that happened. So I thought that I'd buy one of those four wheeled trolleys that can be pushed, like my mother had had.

I set off on the bus into town and went to a shop where you order from a catalogue, pay and then wait your turn to collect.

I was dismayed to see that the trolley was sealed into a flat pack and I had to beg the man who gave it to me to assemble it as there was no way I could carry it to the bus and was wondering how I would even manage it fully assembled on a bus.

The man had to go and get help. It caused a bit of chaos spending so much time with my order, but eventually the job was done and the assistant seemed genuinely pleased by my gratefulness.

It was fairly easy to get it on and off the bus as I used the space reserved for pushchairs and wheelchairs, getting on and off a high kerb designed for the purpose of wheeling on and off. Not that I intended to use it on buses ever again, mind you. 

I feel as though I have had a new lease of life because pushing the trolley to the supermarket and trundling it back home is so easy. It is kinder to my back. If I was stuck at home waiting for a Home Delivery, then I wouldn't get the exercise or meet people and this is important. Most people smile and say,"Good Morning." Sometimes I meet someone I know and end up having a chat and I am getting fresh air and some sunshine no matter how weak it is at present. I pass an assortment of gardens and one or two have branches of rosemary sticking through a fence so I pick a small amount as a treat for my rabbits.

I will leave the Home Delivery until such a time as the weather is abominable or my health is not as good and take my new found toy out for little trips to the shops. It seems to help me to balance too.

I believe my readers from USA call these contraptions Shopping Carts and only use the word, *trolley* when talking about madness!

Well maybe I am mad to prefer to be independent.