Another day, another shopping trip. Once agai I trudge down to my local supermarket in a fruitless quest for bargains and cheap two for one deals. Yesterday the weather wasn't bad. Not like today with blustery rainfall, so I guess I chose the right day to go shopping.

Let's see... What can I buy?.... Most of the goods are the upmarket brands for people who follow the teachings of the prophet Jamie Oliver. Can't afford those. I don't care how many television adverts he makes. Five pounds doesn't feed me for four days unless I go on survival rations.

Even the cheap brands are rising in price inexorably. Eight years ago a packet of mince costing fifty pence now retails for one pound twenty five - and the packaging is smaller. Of course if you're a well paid professional that difference in price probaly wouldn't appear on the radar. For me, it's a coloosal drop in affordable resources.

Eventually I chose the cheapest and least ghastly items I could find. Time then to stand in the queue and await my chance to pay for them. For some reason I seem to have developed a talent for finding the the exact time when coachloads of Swindon residents have decided to do their shopping as well. Nothing I can do about it. Join the queue and wait...

Movement. Something caught my eye. With almost static lines of people a sudden movement among them was not going to go unnoticed. A mobility buggy went into fast reverse, scattering shoppers as they tried to save themselves from injury.

Funnily enough it wasn't the fault of the old lady on board, although she didn't react to the situation very quickly. Her granddaughter, a very young child sat on her knee, had accidentially tripped the reversing switch with her coat. Doesn't the law say something about kids being at the wheel of motorised vehicles?

It was all over in seconds. The buggy was brought to a halt, the old woman left the premises red-faced with embarrasement, and the herd of shoppers went back to grazing at the till, content that all was calm and safe once again.

Oh No... Not Again...

A car horn should be used to warn other road users of your presence. Usually it's used to tell them to effing well look where they're going. I can't really criticise because I've done the exact same thing when some idiot cut me up on a road junction.

Anyway I was heading for home and the horn alerted me to the presence of a vehicle. As it happens I wasn't in any way obstructing the passage of the road vehicle, nor did I recognise the irate driver of the car, nor for that matter do I believe my fashion sense is quite that outrageous to warrant a loud blast.

I wonder what his problem was? Ohhhh... So that's where the horn control is.