Long story short, it has taken a while to be sent and, on receiving an email from me, suggesting that at this rate, it would have been quicker to have it delivered on foot, the seller sent it by special delivery, to arrive this morning.
This was unhelpful in that neither Keith nor I were going to be at home this morning and as yet, we haven't managed to train the dogs to answer the door or sign for packages.
"Never mind," I thought, "Maybe this new brainwave of Royal Mail will finally kick in and our friendly postman will deliver it to the neighbour's house for me."
Of course, had I put money on that happening, my purse would now be somewhat lighter. (Well, you knew that was going to be the case, didn't you?)
So I took the dreaded red 'you were out' card down to the delivery office.
In the interests of Elf and Safety, they no longer allow us mere members of the public to park in their hallowed grounds, so we have to park at the nearby railway station (if there's room), pay and display and then traipse round to Royal Mail, or you can take a chance and park in the car park of a local pet store, pretend you are a customer and then sneak out to the delivery office, which is what I tend to do.
Once I'd been handed my parcel, I engaged the man at the desk in the usual dialogue about getting parcels delivered to a neighbour and why it isn't happening and, guess what?
It turns out that Royal Mail had the audacity to inform the public of this new scheme WITHOUT checking with the union that it was OK first!
And of course, they don't think it is.
So it doesn't happen.
