Delivery

 

Delivery

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons 

We had a parcel delivery today. On the Reolink camera I saw the delivery man approach with the parcel and expected he would leave it at the door, so didn’t rush to answer when he rang the bell. He lingered, then tapped, then left, with the package under his arm. I decided I’d better go to the door.

By that time, he was back in his vehicle, but saw me and climbed out again. He told me he needed my date of birth. ‘You’re joking,’ I said, since, although everyone tells me I don’t look my age (thank goodness!) no-one could mistake me for an adolescent. He was serious, so I gave him the information, and he smiled and handed me the parcel.

It was light and addressed to Barry. When he arrived home with the dogs, he took one look and said, ‘Oh, that’ll be my axe.’

I had forgotten he was researching axes the day before. It’s a sign of extreme trust that this did not worry me. He needed to add a small hatchet to his array of sharp tools for chopping kindling.It’s a good thing I answered the door, or we would have been waiting for a redelivery.

‘Answering the door’ is a funny expression. It’s not as though the door poses questions or asks for explanations. It’s just there, providing a barrier between outside and inside, as well as a measure of insulation, and a means of easily identifying one house from another, so long as it bears a number or a name.