Middle class

I have become middle class to an alarming degree. It is something I have been aware of for a long time, of course, but it was brought to my attention this morning so forcibly that it felt as if I were in some kind of barbed sitcom poking fun at 'woke' ageing southerners.

Living here in Dorset is an indicator in itself, which does have areas deprivation, including rural deprivation, but has large swathes of comfortably off residents who enjoy longer life spans than many others across the country. 

We have just had a visit from a representative of an energy firm arising from the current green energy grant scheme which, having completed an online survey, suggests we might benefit from an air heater being installed. So here we are having a check up of the house based in part on environmental concerns, a big factor actually, and a delivery of shopping arrived during the visit. It is all vegan, naturally, and included things like tahini and tofu. The measuring up of the house to gauge energy efficiency savings took a long time and so I had a healthy lunch of salad with a balsamic vinegar dressing, chia, flax and sunflower seeds, alongside coucous and homemade humus. Almost everything in it screams middle class.

I'd just come back from a bike ride down to the library and back, changing books ahead of lockdown just in case the library has to shut. Riding a bike isn't in itself a middle class activity, neither is going to the library, but there is something quite worthy about it when you set it beside the other parts of my day, the drive to the school run, the morning 5km run, feeding the birds, taking the pomeranian dog for a walk, looking at articles about the US Presidential election.

None of these in isolation should be taken as being exclusively middle class, of claiming that no one else is vegan or rides a bike or similar. It is simply that taken as a whole I think I have become almost entirely right on, comfortable and am able to make choices that perhaps others don't have the resources for, including a thing seemingly as simple as time.

I wonder if the younger me would have liked the me of today?