Saturday, 22 September 2007


Ah, what a week.
My rantings to DHL for their diabolical service have left me exhausted.
How can a courier company be so bad at what they do? How can they say a parcel is not address correctly when they are delivering to a postcoded address of a Lutyens Listed grand building?
I take issue with their advertised 24 hour delivery, I suspect it's secret coded text for 'Next time we're passing an incredibly huge listed house with formal gardens at the address written on the parcel, we may drop off said parcel, or we may leave it for another day, or we may not bother with the delivery until we are yelled at for 24 hours'.

The Postman this week has equally been what can only be decribed as outside the human race, he drives far too fast, can't find his brakes and crashes into things when he turns his van. He has the personal speed of a sloth and wit and intelligence of a blunt knife that lost it's blade many years ago in very soft butter.


Around My Kitchen Table said...

Have just happened upon your blog in a roundabout kind of way and have been reading back over some of your recent posts - and giggling! I love all the tales about your mother's present-buying. My mother, who's in her 80s, tends to give her grandchildren money rather than presents as she can't spend hours going round shops any more - and this suits both parties just fine!

Frog in the Field said...

Thank you for visiting, I'm glad I made you giggle. I just hope I never become like that too.