The big box

A neighbour picked up some serving bowls, plates and cutlery for the lodge on the last day of a sale in town.  One of the lovely big plates was the last in the shop and we wondered if I might be able to get a couple more on line.  Yes, I could - at the sale price, too.

I pondered the wisdom of having them delivered by post but reasoned if a store sells china online they must know a thing or two about packaging.  And it made more sense to have it posted than to make a trip to town to pick them up.  Our road is in a terrible state at the moment and I sometimes feel guilty when I use it and add to its deterioration.  The mailman will be coming along the road regardless.  I pity the poor man - and the school bus driver - who have to drive it every weekday.  Let's hope that our neighbourhood letter of complaint to the council doesn't fall on deaf ears.  Last time someone complained the council sent out a truck load of gravel and two men with shovels to fill in the potholes! 

A couple of days later when the mailman arrived at my back door and removed a large box from his van I thought it must be a delivery for the farm.  But, no, it had my name on it and "Fragile" stickers, so I toiled through the many layers of packaging wondering what it was.

I now have enough bubble wrap and brown paper to keep me going for life, I think.  I just hope I can iron the wrinkles out of all that lovely brown paper.  There is so much of it, it seems wasteful.    

There was more brown paper in the bottom of the box and my cat has decided that she now has a comfy new home.  I couldn't even get her to open her eyes for a photo.