"The world is changing: I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, and I smell it in the air..."

... and I hear it in the Post Office.

Queueing to tax the car today I was holding the baby, who was in a very sweet, cuddly mood. After a while I realised she was playing her favourite game - peek-a-boo - with the woman (about my age) who was standing behind us. I turned around to smile and saw a bitter-sweet expression on this beautful lady's face and tears in her eyes. An older lady, next in the queue after her, was looking too and smiling tearily.

I felt how they were feeling in my stomach, without even the ensuing conversation. But what I heard confirmed it.

"My children are at school," said the younger of the two. "I'm ok until I see a lovely baby like this, then I do miss them horribly."

"Yes and it's terrible that you can't even really stop to talk to them any more, like you could in the old days," said the older woman. "I'm always being told off by my daughter for talking to babies and children. 'Mum!' she says. 'You can't do that!'"

I didn't know what to say. Deregister and home educate? Co-sleep, sling, attachment-parent, feed-on-demand, sing, play, cuddle and love them all day and all night, while you can? Maybe I'd have suggested it at one time, but now it feels like people are too far removed from natural living for me to explain how it's possible to a stranger, in a ten-minute queue at the Post Office. And anyway, it was too late for the older lady.

"We're still human, aren't we?" I empathised, sadly. Human beings in an inhuman world.

"I can't even take photos of my grandchildren in the bath any more," went on the older lady. "Soap and bubbles in their hair. It's part of childhood, isn't it? But you can't record it now."

"Yes and you're worried who might see it if you do.." said the other.

"You can't video them in a swimming pool!" said the grandmother. "We went on holiday and the camera was banned from the pool! I couldn't believe it!"

The queue had moved. Our conversation was over. All we had time to do was shake our heads and say: "Shame.." But we all knew what we meant. Our communities. Our families. Things we used to take for granted.

I was in the Post Office instead of taxing the car online because I had to drive it to the garage for its MOT and daren't even drive it the two miles from here to there without a tax disc. Is "It's in the post" enough to prevent one of the new on-the-spot fines, even if it's true? I didn't want to take the risk, having only just scraped together enough spare cash for 6 months' car tax.

We went to the supermarket. People looked askance at Lyddie, as usual, for being out of school in term time. Five years old - tall enough to look six or seven - and not even wearing a uniform.

And the price of food is so much higher than a few weeks ago. Out of the dozens of shoppers we only see one face not looking pinched or worried, looking for bargains - a woman with a baby like ours, playing a baby game and laughing together. Only one.



"As the Fourth Age approaches, the Elves are leaving Middle-earth, yet some still cling to hope..."