Two by Two

In Celtic cultures St Brigid's Day, 1st February, is celebrated as the first day of spring and, writing this with the sun streaming through my window, that seems almost believable.  Not so the last few days, however.  Although I haven't been to the worst-hit parts of the country, I can be forgiven, I think, for yesterday mistaking a lake for 'just another flooded field'!  I fear much is to be done before we can justifiably think of a warm spring day, with summer just around the corner!

So what of this week in the courier's life?  By Wednesday I felt it had fallen off a cliff, but now on reflection I can think of it more as a bagel, or a Polo mint - a week with a hole in the middle.  Monday started off with good news, when I rang in after my return from the church breakfast to be told that I was no.2 on the list!  Sometimes, despite earlier postings here, it's a mystery to me how that list works.  But avoiding the dental inspection of a donated equine (a 'translation' of a well-known proverb that a few years ago had one of my cousins scratching his head!), I sat back at my computer, confident that the day would soon unfold.  To my amazement it took until the late morning before this no.2 driver was summoned.  It was worth the wait, however, because I was soon off to take an item to Ormskirk General Hospital, calling on the way at two railway engineering firms in Derby for another customer.

Tuesday started with an early collection that needed to be in Haverhill by 8.0, and a succession of three other jobs finished with a delivery in north Kent, after which my return through the Dartford tunnel caused my prepayment tag to beep, indicating that it would like a financial transfusion.  Wednesday was the hole in the week's bagel (or Polo, if you prefer); I did one job to Cambridge and later in the day another to Watford General Hospital.  By now, the week's theme of 'doubles' had been established, some in their entirety, others in their completion.  Let my continuing story explain.

Early on Thursday morning, I collected two boxes in Stevenage for delivery in the Norwich area.  This was only the second time in my career I'd been to the small industrial estate in Rackheath, to two different premises, for two separate customers.  It was also a rather unusual assignment; I felt like a fish out of water as I followed the signs for 'Goods in' and entered what appeared to be a conventional engineering machine shop . . . with two boxes of asparagus!  As I looked around me, trying to distinguish some semblance of a goods receiving area, I took heart from the sight of a score or so of apples laying on one of the benches.  I had in fact come to a factory whose product is food-packing machinery.

Another 'second' was scored on Friday morning, as I visited Fortnum & Mason's warehouse in Cambridgeshire.  For security reasons it carries no outside identification, and I was glad to recall my earlier lengthy searching experience, and know exactly where to go this time.  By now the week had been quite productive and, given the incessant rain, I would have been quite content to sit at my desk uninterrupted by the phone.  This wasn't to be, however, and before long I was sent to the tiny village of Cople, near Bedford, where I visited - not on this occasion for the second time, but the first time for some while - a back-garden workshop, to collect goods for Loughton in Essex, another place that I've not visited for several years.  Along with this, I also took two items for delivery in Hoddesdon, and the week finished with one in Gillingham, my second visit in three days to Kent, and another reminder from my rapidly expiring Dart-tag as I returned.

Now, with a happily replete Dart-tag, and all kinds of other admin cleared up, I can relax in anticipation of going to a quiz this evening to celebrate the 90th anniversary of the opening of St Paul's Church in this fine Garden City.