Delivery

When I was a boy, the following things were delivered to our house - bottles of milk, sacks of coal, the daily newspaper and every two weeks or so bottles of pop from the Law's pop lorry - pop being what Americans call soda.

Nowadays it's different. Just about everything is delivered to our homes - from clothes to refrigerators. Here in England vast Amazon warehouses have been constructed close to motorways and delivery vans cruise up and down every street in our kingdom. Amazon alone have more than a thousand delivery fans in Britain and that fleet is forever expanding.

For various reasons, the most complained about delivery service in this country was a company called Hermes. They have reinvented themselves and changed their name to EVRI and it was this company that brought a parcel to our door this morning. Unusually it was for me as a few days ago I ordered a new pair of sandals from the Clarks Outlet store.

Barefooted, I came to the door in my dressing gown.  The delivery man thrust the package into my hands while simultaneously taking a photo on his smartphome - presumably to prove that the delivery had taken place.

It is at this point that I feel the urge to climb up on my soapbox. The delivery man did not ask for my permission to take that picture. It is not the first time that this has happened. I am sure that delivery staff are under instructions from their companies to take those pictures, I wonder if this also happens in The States, Australia, Canada, Germany and France for example.

On this occasion, the picture did not reveal very much but you can see one of my naked big toes. The guy was on our property and I think that if someone is on your property they should not be snapping any pictures without permission to do so. Perhaps next time I will get my own camera out and start snapping pictures of the deliverer. See how they like it.

By the way, the sandals are very nice and fit perfectly. All I need now is a pair of white ankle socks to go with my cool summer  outfit - khaki shorts and a navy blue Yorkshire Pudding T-shirt.


from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/KVxhqH3

Washing machine

 Washing my sheets on this rainy Monday morning has me drawing some parallels with life. The rain may dampen my mood, but it necessary to rid all the impurities and toxins of life. The rain wipes the slate for new thoughts to take hold. My thoughts need a daily cleanse. If anyone were to go through the scramble of my thoughts, they’d be shocked. The amount of worry and anxiety that roams around my brain is one I can’t quantify. My thoughts are like my sheets. They’re not privy to the cleansing, they just know it’s happening. Maybe that’s all that needs to be known. The answer is not as vital as the process to the outcome. Life is much like that sentiment. The destination is not as important as the journey to arrive there. This is all to say that maybe I should take a spin in the proverbial washing machine.


Blessings my friends. Love oneself and one another. 

Regine



from R's rue https://ift.tt/3NbowP6