Pearls of wisdom from an octogenarian who’s seen it all…
I. Do. Not. Believe. This!
Arrived, today, a huge cardboard box from that online shop that sells everything (we used to have door stop catalogues that did much the same but now it’s all instant and online).
Within said box, twenty-three yards of brown paper packing material scrunched up to carefully cushion the contents should the box be shaken up or dropped.
And the contents? The precious cargo that needs such delicate care and protection?
No. Not the new pottery plant holder for the cheese plant in the tiny glass-roofed extension my late husband insisted on investing in and I laughingly refer to as ‘the conservatory’. Not even the set of glass tumblers I have reluctantly ordered, having had the last one go the way of all glass.
No. The contents was…
One pillow. Common or garden ‘use with bed’ variety, stuffed with foam and about as fragile as my dog’s rubber throwing toys.
Come on people, get a grip!