Monday, 16 February 2015

I got a letter from the postman!

My home seems to be being hit both front and back at the moment!  Not only am I living in a back yard war zone - which I'm sure my readers are all tired of hearing about - I now have a war zone at the front of my home!
My beautiful pleached olive hedge
The postman wrote (twice) to tell me that I needed to prune my beautiful pleached olive trees on my boundary as he couldn't ride his bike down the footpath to deliver my letters! Not only were my olives encroaching on his riding space (I thought footpaths were for foot traffic not bikes!) but the no-standing sign in the footpath meant that neither he nor the handlebars could squeeze through the gap! 

Nice and private - but that sign meant Mr Postman couldn't ride between the sign and the hedge!
Well I decided to bite the bullet and have the olives pruned (although now that the deed is done I have been informed that the Postman has no legs to stand on - or bike on - regarding the request!) I had been loathe to prune them hard as the olives were green and I like to wait until they turn black. Still out of 'courtesy' to the postman we went ahead.

And this is the horror result - although my gardener assures me that they will come back. In the mean time everyone passing can see inside my home. The number of people stopping to look in horror is mounting daily. So much for a hedge for privacy! 
Ain't that gorgeous. I hope Mr Postman appreciates it 'cos I sure don't!
Interestingly as I was out frantically gathering the green olives before they went to the tip Mr Postman was seen riding down the road (where bikes should go) and mounting the curb further down the road where he had to compete with overhanging roses, fennel plants, creepers and more. Not surprisingly he averted his eyes from the carnage - and I was too angry to speak to him!
All the green olives I could save
Telling a friend of mine yesterday about 'the letter from the postman' she said she had also received one. At least after changing the letterbox location she got a letter from the postman (woman actually!) thanking her. I doubt very much that I will be so lucky. In the meantime I am feeding the olives frantically - and will remember that the postman/woman doesn't have a legal leg (or bike pedal!) to stand on. 

I'll sign off with the Elvis song - Return to Sender. 'Cos that's what I should have done with his letter!
I gave a letter to the postman,
He put it his sack.
Bright in early next morning,
He brought my letter back.

She wrote upon it:
Return to sender, address unknown.
No such number, no such zone.

We had a quarrel, a lovers' spat
I write I'm sorry but my letter keeps coming back.

So then I dropped it in the mailbox
And sent it special D.
Bright in early next morning
It came right back to me.

She wrote upon it:
Return to sender, address unknown.
No such person, no such zone.

This time I'm gonna take it myself
And put it right in her hand.
And if it comes back the very next day
Then I'll understand the writing on it

Return to sender, address unknown.
No such number, no such zone.

Return to sender
Return to sender
Return to sender
Return to sender 

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