Never let it be said that I don't appreciate our postman - whichever one of several he might happen to be. If he brings me nice parcels and not too many brown envelopes then I'm happy.
He, apparently, is not! He doesn't like my joined-up gardening (mentioned in a post earlier in the year) with soft edges.
A month or so ago we had a note scrawled on an envelope asking us ... sorry, telling us ... to clear the path of plants. We rarely use our front door so hands up, we had let the path get a little overgrown and I saw a rogue holly seedling getting perilously close to the path ... think scratched bare leg, woops, not good for postie. Pauley cut everything back to ensure that postie didn't snag his summertime shorts on anything prickly or tickly and all was well ...
Until Wednesday ... Chilly day, could have rained but thankfully didn't, because postie left the letters on the back doorstep (which is on the side of the house and in the front rather than at the back of the house). Anyway, Pauley phoned the PO to complain ... did you know there's a PO complaints line? There is. On Thursday he used the letterbox in the front door (or it may of course have been our normal postie) but today he put the post in the back porch on the floor. Admittedly the door was open as we were in the garden discussing the positioning of the compost bin we were about to go out to buy.
Anyway ... Pauley caught sight of the postman as he came back along the road and 'collared' him to ask why he wasn't using the letterbox. "Ah!" said postie "I feel a moan coming on ...". Charming! It turns out he has to have a straight, clear walk to the door because of "elf'n'safety ..." and the fact that a valerian and a hebe are growing over the edge of the path would seem to be a problem.
But this is the best bit ... we have a cotoneaster horizontalis which had grown into a bush and was trimmed to within an inch of its life by the previous owner. It is on the corner of where the path to the front door meets the drive at right angles and has grown a bit. I like topiary and clean-cut edges in other people's gardens if that's what they, themselves, like. But I don't like it in mine. Postie obviously does. The soft edges of the squared off cotoneaster full of lovely autumnal berries are obviously not to his taste. Apparently ... wait for it ... he might get a bee land on him from it. Yes, I kid you not. There might be bees on it. Aaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So, this afternoon, instead of digging the new border I am trying to create in the back garden, I spent the allotted time in the front garden with Pauley ... armed with hedge trimmer, secateurs and shears, plastic sacks and a yard brush. If postie doesn't like the results of our labours then Pauley will be phoning that complaints line.
When I think of dear Eddie, our postie in Dilton Marsh, who used to walk down the 50ft long path to our old cottage, under rose arches, through clematis tendrils and gaps no more than 2ft wide with a smile on his face regardless of the weather, I do wonder what the world is coming to.
Apologies to any posties out there. I do understand, but this jobsworth lark takes the biscuit!
I feel better now I've shared this with you!