Skip to main content

Lost in the Post

 It has been busy this week because my son and 6 year old grandson came to stay.  They were only here for five days so we reluctantly spent Tuesday morning waiting for a package to arrive as apparently it needed a signature.  The post lady arrived first about 11am but she said she didn't carry packages because she was on a bike.  Half an hour later another lady arrived and asked my neighbour where Madame lived.  He showed her my door but she didn't knock, simply put a card in the post box stating that I wasn't there and to collect it from the post office.  'Did you get your package?' my neighbour asked cheerfully.  'No,' I replied.

On Wednesday we trooped off to the post office.  The woman took my card and went in search of my package.  Five minutes later she said she couldn't find it.   'Come back tomorrow after 2pm.'   So Thursday we all went back, in the pouring rain this time, but once again they couldn't find it.  I demanded to see someone else.  Another woman appeared and studied the card.  'Oh that has gone to the post office in Distre.  Just go and collect it from there.'  'No,' I replied emphatically, 'I would have to take a bus or a taxi.  (I wasn't going to tell them I had a car)  The card clearly states that my package is here and here is where I expect it to be.'  The  woman shrugged her shoulders,  that shrug that says I don't care what you expect, that is where your package is, go fetch it.  I accosted another worker and explained the problem.  'Three days I have been trying to collect this package  and now you expect me to go outside of town to a place I don't know even though the card says the package is here.'  My son and grandson had already retreated outside in the rain and, although I was trying to  speak quietly, it was clear to other customers that I was not happy.  Finally she spoke, 'you are quite right Madame.  We will get the package back here and you can collect it next week.  Monday is a public holiday,  so Tuesday, afternoon'  We will see tomorrow. 

Can someone please put Macron and Johnson back in their playpens while the rest of us carry on being adults?  My six year old grandson was pulled aside in security at the airport, searched and asked questions such as who is this man with you?  It is true that unscrupulous parents use their children to transport drugs etc, I saw plenty of women trying to conceal them in their babies' nappies when I worked for the prison service, but were they taken aside because my son was a man travelling alone with a child?

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Playing by ear

My father could play the piano.  Not an unusual skill but he was deaf.  He lost his  hearing fighting in the army in India in the 30s so he was an adult when he lost it and therefore remembered tunes, even though he couldn't hear him.  However he didn't have the skill to learn anything new so  either you liked the old music or you didn't.  He used to say that he played by ear and then would roar with laughter.  He would have struggled in many ways with modern living but most of all during the pandemic, he would have lost his ability to communicate as he always lip read.  There must be thousands of people like him today who still rely on reading lips to understand,  in fact all of us do it to some extent, so please be patient if someone is struggling to communicate while you are wearing a mask. I went to the supermarket today and at the check out, the cashier asked me to move the trolley into a particular position.  As I manoeuvred it ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Mondays

 Last Monday my son and daughter in law were due to catch the 8.15am ferry from Portsmouth to Caen.  It was 6.45am when I stepped out of the shower and heard my phone  going.  I snatched it up.  It was a video  call.  'Mum, we have big problems here,'  and before I could speak he thrust the phone into the hands of a Brittany ferries' staff member and said, 'Talk  to my mum.'  Barely conscious of my wet, tangled hair and trying to cover myself up with a  towel which thought gravity was fun, I asked what the problem was.  Apparently they had the wrong vaccination certificates and were being refused passage.  I asked what I could do and she said they could go and get a test and take a later ferry.  'Where is the nearest test centre in Portsmouth?'  I asked.  'There isn't one,' she replied, 'there  is one in Southampton, or Havant.'  What!  No test centre in Portsmouth?  They both have learni...
1 comment
Read more

Equality

 I don't want to hear another person  say that women should be equal to men.  There is no 'should' about it, women ARE equal to men but they are not treated equally.  It has never occurred to me that I am  not equal to any man.  Am I treated equally?  Sometimes yes, sometimes no.  It requires a step change in the way women think of themselves as being equal before we can hope for attitudes, legislation, economics to  follow and that is my rant for the day. Ever since I have lived in France I have noticed a stark difference between the French and the British sense of humour.  The dry, irreverent humour of the British is completely wasted on the French, and the Dutch and the Americans sometimes for that matter.  Clearly the British humour is unique.  Yesterday I gave an article to a French friend to read.  It was a humorous piece, self deprecating about a woman suffering an attack by an insect on her face with hideous result...
Post a Comment
Read more