Back in the early days of COVID; or was it the war in Ukraine; or some other recent crisis; queues began to form in Tesco’s, as soon as people were told not to “panic buy”. Strangely enough, when you tell people not to do something, they do the opposite. Whatever the reason, shelves started to empty faster than the middle of the night, shelf-stackers could fill them up. Rumours spread and more people came and queued for what was left. Trolly wars broke out.
What was it all about? Well, toilet rolls were one of the first things to disappear off the shelves. We got our share and more thanks to our little helper band of clutter bears.
A small extension on the house was all we needed to store our new found hoard. Little did we know what a good move we had made.
An article in The Times on 22 July 2023 alerted us to our good fortune. All those years ago who could have forecast raging inflation and who had ever herd of shrinkflation ? In the golden olden days, one roll of Andrex Luxury Extra-soft Quilted toilet paper cost 25pence ( even less if you were lucky enough to get a bog-off offer ). At todays prices it will cost you at least double that. But that’s not all Andrex, have quietly been downsizing by making the sheets 4mm smaller all round and by reducing the number of sheets per roll from 160 down to 155.
Thanks to the Clutter Bears we still have a five year supply of the larger longer toilet rolls and it gives us time to stock up on constipation pills!
GrumbleSmiles 
My! My! it is 0715 this sunday morning, and I am enjoying Dear John’s Blog on Clutter, and toilet rolls! Pass the next sheet please! I need to collect my thoughts and wipe my eyes dry. I have reread the Related Blogs {I appear to have an input- but then there are plenty of others}, and my heart is warmed, as I look at todays headlines in the press and media, about all this ”strife” in life, nothing for us oldies, to enjoy, just the shananakins of those peoples of today who are in the car headlights, as they pass their evenings by calling each other names? There is no friendliness or camaraderie, I feel like a Number 2, please do pass the ‘Bog paper’ on a large or small roll, while I disengage myself from this toileting of todays life’s problems.
I am gently asleep in our retirement village, dreaming and enjoying the past life of our, some hard times but mainly enjoyable times, and very memorable.
pS I am still alert not senile just yet!!! and I have a vote?? I wonder what mischief I can get up to, with my postal vote. So you see for the days events I rely on the Media/press/daily rag, and if I understand it, a visit to my computer and a ‘web site- Not a spiders web? Just yet!!!! I can still determine what is nonsense to me personally. Good Morning all!!!
Memories, just a quick visit to yorkshire: A stroll, along the footpaths around Bolton Abbey, a quick step or 2 over the river stepping stones, singing as one goes ;”One potato two potatoes, three potatoes more, and the rest, as one tries to keep ones feet dry, or not fall into the river wharfe. There again a cuppa at the Cavendish Pavilion, and then a walk to the strid along the riverside path. At the ‘Strid’ looking and listening to the river water as it rushes through the [STRID], a rushing torrent of water. Listen carefully to the song and the tune of the water, as the ‘lady of the stream’ beckons one to physically jump the ‘STRID’ {A yard wide at its narrowest point?}. If you made it, one had the problem of the jump back again=upwards and no hand grabbing positions, plus one was on a rock in the stream, and the bank one had jumped too { a ROCK} was small, and some 2/3 feet below the gorge/strid rocky other bank- No mans land, and the lady of the stream still sung to you? Should you fall into the rushing waters of the strid, it is maybe!!! curtains, with no final opening.
That’s just to please you? If on the way home one has considered all the majestic scenery of Bolton Abbey, one may pass Ilkley, a town in lower wharfedale. Now take 5 minutes, visit the ‘Cow and CALF; rocks, and just sing to ones self the song;;;
‘On Ikley moor batat, where has thou been since I saw thee on Ikley Moor Bahtat, thou’s going to catch thou death of cold,= ect.= then we shall have to bury thee is the last verse. So you see dream of yorkshire, it has wonderful sights, all to be seen before one winds up in a box. Memories as they flash through my mind as a lancastrian living in yorkshire as a child/youth-Great??? PS I was not eligible to play cricket for YORKSHIRE, that was for Born Yorkshiremen only?? Bah Humbug!!!
BOGS: which type? I refer to my scouting days, and the latrines at our summer camps. As a Leeds area scout troop, we basically, had our summer camps in the various dales locations within Yorkshire-Except for the Scout Movement Jubilee [50 years anniversary- then we camped close to the world Jamboree in Sutton Coalfield- a memorable event]. Now then the latrines as a young scout we were busy, pitched our patrol tent, built a campfire suitable to cook all our meals on. HUNG OUR LARDERS IN THE TREES SO THAT THE MICE and what ever else could not pinch/raid our stores. MOST ANNUAL camps were beside a lake or river, so we learnt to swim.
Our ablutions/latrines where organised and dug, by our senior scout troop members, sufficient capacity to hold about 30 persons ablutions/toileting for the full week. All hidden behind shrouds of sacking. Great.
Then on the last night of the camp we had a ‘wide Game’ four senior scouts would go off after teatime ”Nightfall” on to the fells about half an hour to one hour away, all with a neckerchief in their belt. When the reached the summit, they would blow a whistle and indicate by a signally torch that they would be ready to proceed. We as the rest of the troop under the guidance of the scoutmasters, and remaining senior scouts, would on hearing the whistle, or reading the torch message disperse onto the fells/moors in groups of three, to defend our ‘CAMPSITE’!!! The For senior scouts had the task of reaching the campfire [ any one of them], and blowing a whistle to end the game as successful raiders. WE the other scouts had to stop them, and take from their belts their neckerchief, they were then our prisoners. If we as a scout group caught all for of them we were the winners.
In the dales, and on open moorland, in the dark it was great fun. This usually all finished around 22.00. We then had a drink of cocoa and we all sat down around the campfire and had a wonderful singsong, One tune I remember the title was I AM GOING BACK TO GILLWELL’, and off course as a yorkshire troop ‘On Ikley Moor Bahtat’, and or closing song our scout district song ‘AIREDALEING’ to the tune of ‘Waltzing Matilda’. A closing pray, and bed to our tents and sleeping bags- time about midnight= Wonderful memories.
The latrines and ablutions tent were all filled in next morning at breakfast time by the senior scouts??