The excitement of the post arriving can be overwhelming. For me there is the prospect of Brian bringing me a biscuit but for my Mistress it seems to include a doctor’s letter inviting someone who doesn’t live here for an injection and a letter from the council threatening that if an unnamed person doesn’t cut down their unidentified trees or bushes then they won’t come up our road to collect the rubbish. Fair enough tell us if there is something we can do about it, but shouldn’t they start by trying to identify whose bushes or trees and which house is responsible for the problem. We know that ours are all neatly trimmed and for that matter so are those of our neighbours. There is one tree towards the end of the road, but half of that fell down the other week anyway. We are at about the furthest point it is possible to be from the suggested collection points, so my Mistress is not best pleased with the situation. Nor does it actually say in the letter whether they won’t come up our road or whether in fact they will decide that they will. Wouldn’t the world be a better place if it were run by dogs?
Whilst this is all going on, my Mistress has gone to learn how to kill someone with ‘small change’. I am suggesting to my Master that from now on, we only let her have notes and confiscate any other money in case she goes getting ideas. Those five pences can be tricky little coins, you never quite know when they are going to turn on you and as for fifties with all their corners, I can only imagine the devastation they can cause. My Master doesn’t think I’ve got anything to worry about, but you can never be too careful.