Home Delivery

Thurs Morning
Home delivery….and I’m not talking about child birth here. Isn’t this supposed to make life easier? The words ‘home delivery’ conjure up thoughts of luxury and maybe that bygone era of Downton Abbey (see what I did there?) where groceries and meat were delivered, and the rich had gardeners, cleaners and cooks. Of course today the middle classes and all sorts of people have food delivered, and may also employ cleaners, gardeners, nannies and home decorators, and have all sorts of items delivered right to the front door without having to move an inch.
But for me, home deliveries fill me with stress, will I hear the front door? will the bell work this time? What if I’m in the bathroom when they knock at the door and I miss it? Will they leave my package somewhere sensible, or will I have to ring a number that never gets answered to arrange to collect it at a time not convenient for me from some silly place which is a 40 minute drive away? This last scenario really fills me with dread, as I’ve had a few trips to said silly place which always take ages and are a complete waste of my time (apart from getting said parcels which is not a waste but I’d rather have had them left here than had to go and get them).

So today I am waiting for one such delivery, namely a 2 metre long 4 in 1 profile to finish the edge of our new laminate floor in the extension. Unfortunately the last ones got snapped in half on their journey from Sweden, so here I am stressing about the impending delivery. I’m glued to the lounge, can’t go to the studio and make beads as I would never hear the door there, I’m totally distracted and struggling to do the huge list of jobs I’ve allocated myself today. I haven’t even put any of the washing I’d planned for today in the washing machine, just in case it makes too much noise and I miss the door. I managed to switch on my pooter a short while ago, and have done some recycling of old magazines, decided what to cook for pudding on Sunday….very important that one ;-)… and rearranged 2 shelves of cookery books. The last one was fun and very quick, they are now in colour gradation rather than by author, and do you know, they look much neater. Hang on a mo while I pop over to another internet site and pay for my daughters school meals….see what I mean?..all done, and the first item crossed off the TO DO list, hurrah! I wonder if I pop over there again, if I can see what she’s chosen for lunch today, or if the information gets updated overnight? But I digress. (P.S. site is now updated and a toasted panini has been purchased, cool is that?)

So what is the answer to my quandary? I want to feel a sense of luxury, not dread? Maybe we need an air horn that fills the house with an alarming sound when the door button is pressed, a bit like the one they had in the Big Brother house. Unfortunately we don’t even have a doorbell at the moment, just to compound matters even more, so have to listen out for knocking by hand….we don’t even have a door knocker, as I couldn’t bear to get one of those urn ones that seem to be the only choice on every door in the land at the moment. I like to be different as you well know. I think I will go and make another pot of tea and put another set of beads or a focal on Etsy and hope they turn up soon.

Here’s a few shots of progress on our new front room last year.
Velux and door to garage Towards the frontPlaster boardfront corner

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