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Lady Marmalade...


Words from a Bird.  Day 58

I thought that I was being very sensible when I ordered an internet shop from Sainsbury's this week.  I mean, with my injury, it's not ideal to carry heavy shopping, so let someone else do the hard work, and all I have to do is pack it away.

Now I am not sure what kind of person they had picking my shopping today.  I am not even sure whether they were human, as there was about as much thought put into my substitutions as a lion would do if gazelle was off the menu....

I had ordered ten satsumas, enough for the three of us for the week.  'Like oranges, do you?' asked John, my orange-clad, semi-retired delivery driver. 'Making marmalade this weekend?' Suspicions raised, I looked closer into the crate he was heaving over my front door step. The substitute for my unavailable satsumas were ten net bags, each containing ten small 'easy peelers'.....ninety more that I actually needed.  These had to do the walk of shame back to the delivery lorry - unwanted and unloved.

John headed off, leaving me to unpack the rest of the bags.  At the bottom of the first carrier was a bag containing one solitary Kiwi fruit.  I had ordered four.  The 'sharp as a spoon' picker had made the remarkable decision to give me three bags of eight Kiwi fruits as a substitute.  We shall be eating these till April (if they're ripe by then, they were as hard as bloody bullets and about the size of a gobstopper).

My 'large baking potatoes' (think jackets) were masquerading as larger than life Jersey Royals, and all ten that I had ordered would be eaten in one sitting by son number 2, not a chance they'd see the week out. 

So stupidity rules today.  This was reinforced by my sister snitching on my mum and aunt this afternoon when she visited.

Apparently, my mum, in the absence of a torch, had decided that it would be a great idea to light a match to read the gas meter this morning.  No big boom, thank goodness, but much ridicule heaped on her as the day went on.

And my aunt? Well, she has her grandson staying with her.  He always brings a timer for the oven so that he knows when his food is ready.  My aunt is fully aware that she doesn't have a doorbell, but every time the timer goes off, she gets up and answers the front door....

These are worrying times.....

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