Amazon shipping. A package addressed to a neighbor was left on my porch. It is too heavy for me to carry. I went to the Amazon website and stated the problem. They offered me five pages worth of solutions, none of which were relevant. I finally found an offer to talk to a human. I stated the problem. The reply said, "Tell us which of the items you have ordered recently had a delivery problem". They did not give me a chance to explain.
When the snow clears away I will go to my neighbor and tell what has happened.
Hopefully, your neighbour will be able to (a) pick up the package - if it hasn't been stolen, or spoiled by the sn*w, and (b) give Amazon a Right Ticking-Off.
One of the reasons we got into the situation we did last year was the willingness of Amazon delivery drivers to hand over packages to our neighbour at the time. My neighbour was most aggrieved to have a package she was being handed wrested off her by my daughter, to whom it was addressed.
Yes - I used that mixture for a while, and it did help. A salt-and-water mix is good, too.
I 'acquired' some horrendous mouth ulcers (why do they always feel as though they're about a foot wide?) when I first went on anti-seizure meds. After some months, the ulcers went away (as did the seizures), TBTG.
Isn't it a teaspoon of salt to a pint of water? Approximating to normal saline.
Meanwhile, a person who does not respond to perfectly reasonable attempts to get in touch with them via the only available means on offer - Jade doesn't pick up her phone, or answer texts or voicemail.
Isn't it a teaspoon of salt to a pint of water? Approximating to normal saline.
Meanwhile, a person who does not respond to perfectly reasonable attempts to get in touch with them via the only available means on offer - Jade doesn't pick up her phone, or answer texts or voicemail.
I think you might need more salt per pint (or fraction thereof). IIRC, I used about a tablespoonful of salt per half-a-glass of water, but that might be a bit excessive. Spit it out - don't swallow it!
As JJ says, you do get left with the taste, but I found I could live with that!
Re The Other Matter, it is vexing, I agree, but it might just be that for some arcane reason, the person concerned doesn't want to speak to you....
Apropos of which, a certain Brother D phones me frequently, mostly to complain of his ailments and imminent decease (he's actually in fairly good health, but has some, shall we say, issues.....).
I tend not to answer his calls or messages immediately, but I do phone him at least once a week, independently, IYSWIM, to ask how he is. Not quite the same scenario, I know, but it helps me to cope with him.
The salt solution was one I was recommended. I've used it for gargling. Also for washing wounds which weren't healing well.
I can think of any number of arcane reasons for lack of answering*. But have had advice. In hopes of twitching the grapevine in a nice way, I went round to the Rector, who is also the Rector of the church right by the horsy places up that lane, in case she had come across Jade - which she hasn't, but will ask round. Before ordination, she was in the police force, so if the nice way of dealing fails, she says I should report it.
Legally, riders are not required to give details in the case of road accidents, I have now learned, so I was lucky to get what I did.
Meanwhile, there is the case of the mysterious estate agent flyer. Seeking to buy a house with two fewer bedrooms than they would advertise mine for (one's on the ground floor and used as a study), £100k less than the current rate for my sort of property, not, apparently, delivered to my neighbours, and signed by the branch manager, who goes by the name of Jade. Her picture does not exclude the possibility of her being the rider. My passenger thinks it could be her, I wandered past the office yesterday, but she wasn't in. However, I can't quite marry being a branch manager with being inefficient about other things. Like never picking up a phone, no matter which number it is showing. Or being vague in conversation at the time.
*eg. It's not her horse and the owner has told her not to respond. Doesn't fit with her telling me she was insured for the horse.
It is her horse but her partner wants her to get rid of it because of the expense, and has told her not to respond.
She has decided that £306 isn't affordable for her. (That includes VAT.) But doesn't know how to let me know.
She is waiting for payday to get back to me. Nice if she let me know that, though.
Something awful has happened to her since then and she can't deal with the matter.
A site I consulted said: Mix 1 teaspoon salt in one cup warm water. Swish the solution in your mouth for 30 seconds, then spit the solution out. In addition to salt, 1/2 teaspoon baking soda (sodium bicarbonate) may be added to the saline solution.Create a paste by mixing baking soda with small drops of water until a thick consistency result. Use this paste to cover the canker sores, which will help relieve pain. These methods may be repeated as often as needed. Saline and sodium bicarbonate both help the mouth heal quickly by gently reducing the alkalinity and bacteria in the mouth.
I had a prescription for a bicarb/water mix so I don't know the proportions I'm afraid.
TICTH the many people I know who talk endlessly about organizing their clutter. I'm a minimalist with empty closets, nothing in the garage but our 3 working cars and a lawn mower, no basement, no shed and nothing in the attic at all. So why do my friends keep telling me about the latest clutter expert and why I should go through my tiny wardrobe and organized kitchen cabinets and throw out anything that doesn't give me joy. My black socks don't give me joy and neither does my ten inch skillet but they're useful so I have them. Meanwhile their house is wall-to-wall stuff that they are endlessly churning and organizing while they never get rid of a single item. Fine. Do what you like in your own home, but now we have volunteers at our local charity, free store hoarding the clothing and toys while they get "organized." The toy store section has been closed for six weeks for "cleaning and organizing," while the kids cry with disappointment. That area is stuffed from floor to ceiling with toys and the kids are going away empty handed because the person in charge thinks it's important to have all the Barbie dolls in one bin and all the stuffed dogs separated from the stuffed cats. Why? Just open the door and give it away, that's why it was donated, for the kids, not for you to hoard.
Kiwibank. If I had wanted the account to remain unchanged I wouldn't have come into the branch and arranged for it to be closed. Idiots, friendly idiots, but some competence would be welcome.
You have my sympathy, EA - our last house was plagued with mice, partly because our neighbours had three cats, and the wee buggers saw our place as a cat-free zone.
@Piglet i think this has to be the way to go. Steeling myself to ask to borrow our neighbour's cat for an hour or so. Maybe the way to go is to invite them round for a meal and ask if they can bring their cat too?
@Huia , I'll keep it in mind, ini case the clothes pegs get uppity!
Well may their white vans be stuck in a never-ending contraflow behind a pantechnicon driven by Beelzebub.
(my bold)
Never heard of that word before. A google reveals photos (of a large furniture transporting van) that I never knew had a specific name. Sorry for your grief, Firenze, but thank you for the new word.
You’re welcome. I’m waiting for charabanc to come back into currency.
It has, sort of, inasmuch as when the congregation at Our Place all piles into church at the Last Minute, we say 'O! The Sharrer's arrived!' ('sharrer' being a lazy diminutive of 'char-a-banc').
You’re welcome. I’m waiting for charabanc to come back into currency.
It has, sort of, inasmuch as when the congregation at Our Place all piles into church at the Last Minute, we say 'O! The Sharrer's arrived!' ('sharrer' being a lazy diminutive of 'char-a-banc').
TICTH open-mouthed chewers, scrapers of cutlery, slurpers and all who make me hear their eating and drinking. It will, I am sure, one day drive me to kill someone.
TICTH open-mouthed chewers, scrapers of cutlery, slurpers and all who make me hear their eating and drinking. It will, I am sure, one day drive me to kill someone.
While I can't cure all of these noisy ones, I recommend to you The Forktula. Inexpensive enough for you to carry an extra and offer it to any who might profit from its use. https://forktula.com/
Be careful what you wish for - don't forget that you are easy prey for Mini-submarines, Petards, and either (depending on hull material) Teredo Worms or ordinary plain Rust.
Alas, Rust is indeed the perennial Foe, the hull of the Episcopal Ark being of riveted Iron (and quite a late example of this construction - 1927 or thereabouts - the theory being that the little barge-building yard up in the north of The Netherlands simply had a large number of cast-iron plates on hand at the time! AIUI, these plates are actually more resistant to rust long-term than steel, but a bit harder to weld if occasion demands).
However, the annual application of a wonderful sort of paint (it goes on most satisfactorily with a roller) called Black Tar Varnish is the barge-owner's friend.
TICTH the fact that I am personally no longer able to apply the said remedy, on account of wonky Head, Legs, and Knees.
Comments
@Bishops Finger - no hostly wrath at all - I thought it was brilliant too ...
I sympathise. Alas, it seems to be true that stress makes ulcers worse, so <votive> that the stress goes away, and so do the ulcers.
Sadly that would require one medical miracle and several political ones.
When the snow clears away I will go to my neighbor and tell what has happened.
Hopefully, your neighbour will be able to (a) pick up the package - if it hasn't been stolen, or spoiled by the sn*w, and (b) give Amazon a Right Ticking-Off.
Macarius told me this as I was reading your post, Moo.
MMM
A mouthwash made of bicarb and water swilled around and spat out can help. I used it a lot during my chemo.
I 'acquired' some horrendous mouth ulcers (why do they always feel as though they're about a foot wide?) when I first went on anti-seizure meds. After some months, the ulcers went away (as did the seizures), TBTG.
Especially when they drive white or silver cars!
Of course, I know that headlights, like indicators, drain money DIRECT FROM YOUR BANK ACCOUNT, but even so, people, put some lights on!
Mrs. S, infuriated
Meanwhile, a person who does not respond to perfectly reasonable attempts to get in touch with them via the only available means on offer - Jade doesn't pick up her phone, or answer texts or voicemail.
I think you might need more salt per pint (or fraction thereof). IIRC, I used about a tablespoonful of salt per half-a-glass of water, but that might be a bit excessive. Spit it out - don't swallow it!
As JJ says, you do get left with the taste, but I found I could live with that!
Re The Other Matter, it is vexing, I agree, but it might just be that for some arcane reason, the person concerned doesn't want to speak to you....
Apropos of which, a certain Brother D phones me frequently, mostly to complain of his ailments and imminent decease (he's actually in fairly good health, but has some, shall we say, issues.....).
I tend not to answer his calls or messages immediately, but I do phone him at least once a week, independently, IYSWIM, to ask how he is. Not quite the same scenario, I know, but it helps me to cope with him.
Please don't take that the wrong way!
I can think of any number of arcane reasons for lack of answering*. But have had advice. In hopes of twitching the grapevine in a nice way, I went round to the Rector, who is also the Rector of the church right by the horsy places up that lane, in case she had come across Jade - which she hasn't, but will ask round. Before ordination, she was in the police force, so if the nice way of dealing fails, she says I should report it.
Legally, riders are not required to give details in the case of road accidents, I have now learned, so I was lucky to get what I did.
Meanwhile, there is the case of the mysterious estate agent flyer. Seeking to buy a house with two fewer bedrooms than they would advertise mine for (one's on the ground floor and used as a study), £100k less than the current rate for my sort of property, not, apparently, delivered to my neighbours, and signed by the branch manager, who goes by the name of Jade. Her picture does not exclude the possibility of her being the rider. My passenger thinks it could be her, I wandered past the office yesterday, but she wasn't in. However, I can't quite marry being a branch manager with being inefficient about other things. Like never picking up a phone, no matter which number it is showing. Or being vague in conversation at the time.
*eg. It's not her horse and the owner has told her not to respond. Doesn't fit with her telling me she was insured for the horse.
It is her horse but her partner wants her to get rid of it because of the expense, and has told her not to respond.
She has decided that £306 isn't affordable for her. (That includes VAT.) But doesn't know how to let me know.
She is waiting for payday to get back to me. Nice if she let me know that, though.
Something awful has happened to her since then and she can't deal with the matter.
Hope it gets sorted asap, anyway.
I had a prescription for a bicarb/water mix so I don't know the proportions I'm afraid.
The saline solution is also an effective gargle if you have a sore throat.
As usual, be careful, but sodium bicarb is indeed a simple, cheap, effective, palliative.
I repeat - IANAD!
.
Just.........
Have you any friends who could lend you a cat?
@Huia , I'll keep it in mind, ini case the clothes pegs get uppity!
Two sodding months and not a nanometre closer to getting my kitchen and bathroom repaired.
May they all spend eternity in a queue for the bus to Hell.
I am teaching tomorrow, what betting I will not be able to tell the doctor how I am doing afterwards!
Never heard of that word before. A google reveals photos (of a large furniture transporting van) that I never knew had a specific name. Sorry for your grief, Firenze, but thank you for the new word.
My university possessed (and still does, many moons later) its very own genuine 1929 charabanc: http://toastrackbus.org/.
It has, sort of, inasmuch as when the congregation at Our Place all piles into church at the Last Minute, we say 'O! The Sharrer's arrived!' ('sharrer' being a lazy diminutive of 'char-a-banc').
We too for an outing say - we'll get a sharrar
While I can't cure all of these noisy ones, I recommend to you The Forktula. Inexpensive enough for you to carry an extra and offer it to any who might profit from its use. https://forktula.com/
However, the annual application of a wonderful sort of paint (it goes on most satisfactorily with a roller) called Black Tar Varnish is the barge-owner's friend.
TICTH the fact that I am personally no longer able to apply the said remedy, on account of wonky Head, Legs, and Knees.