£8

Today, I did not carry the world on my shoulders. Instead, I carried it in a bag.

The world cost me just £8. I thought it was a bargain but I suppose in buying the world I have also purchased all of its troubles. From desertification to starvation and from exploitation to deforestation. Yes - now I come to think of it, maybe it wasn't such a bargain after all.

To clarify for Ellen D and Mary M and Bruce T and David and James and Bob and Jennifer in South Carolina and all the other Yankee-Doodle-Dandies who call by this humble green blog, £8 is the equivalent of $11 US. For Marcellous, Andrew, Elsie and Kylie on that big southern island that is apparently not an island, £8 is the equivalent of  $15.3 AUS. For Young Meike in continental Europe, £8 is the equivalent of 9.18 euros. For Lovely Monica in Sweden, £8 is about the same as 98 krona. For Canadian visitors like Arctic Monkey Red, Nurse Pixie, Debra ("She Who Squeaks")  and Jenny in Nova Scotia, £8 is like $14.8 CAN.

You might be wondering where I found the world.

It was in a battered cardboard box in the Cancer Research shop at Rotherham's Parkgate Shopping Centre.

When I spotted it, an elderly lady with silvery hair and silver-rimmed spectacles said to me, "Oh, I was looking at that but I have got no room for it in my house."

I told her that I was tempted but I had come to Rotherham to take a long walk and I did not really wish to be burdened by the world. I wanted my hands free.

"It won't weigh much," she advised. "A big, strong bloke like you. It'll not trouble you. Get a bag with handles!"

Holding up the world like Atlas in tales of yore, I asked the nice lady where she had been. She told me that the furthest she had been was to the Caribbean Sea on a cruise: "when my husband was alive". I showed her where it was. She remembered Barbados.

So I bought the world and a big bag with a suitable floral design to carry the world therein.

And as I left with the world peeping over the rim of the bag, I jested to her, "I am sure you are an agent for Cancer Research... persuading innocent visitors like me to spend our money here!"

She laughed and so did the ginger-bearded shop volunteer who completed the transaction. I suspect he was a man.

Then I set off on my Rotherham walk, now slightly encumbered by the world in a flowery bag. It was certainly not what I had been planning - but to tell you the truth, the inconvenience wasn't too bad. The nice old lady was right. The world with all of its troubles didn't weigh too much at all.