Parcel Collection

I usually sleep through the postman/ delivery man knocking on our door. I’m just a wee bit lazy in the mornings. I then grumble when having to pick the parcel up from the sorting office. Not as much as when I have to collect it from our greenhouse though.

Now, I’m not very green fingered at all. We inherited the greenhouse when we bought our house 3 years ago. The previous occupants obviously were very passionate about it and they left us a gorgeous garden filled with cherry trees (the flowering, not fruit kind. I never knew there was a difference!), various very colourful plants and a creeping ivy in the shape of an arch. It’s very pretty, and thankfully requires very little maintenance. Our greenhouse on the other hand screams of how little we’ve taken care of it and overtime has turned into a dusty looking shed more than anything and is now mostly crawling with spiders, cobwebs and assorted creepy crawlies. It’s something on our list of things to do this year. Once that finger has been pulled out.

Given the state of the garden I wasn’t overjoyed to see the delivery card stating my parcel had been placed in the greenhouse / spider sanctuary. After waiting for the rain to stop I decided to go rescue it cleverly avoiding all slugs and snails in my path. I peered into the greenhouse and thankfully it didn’t have anything crawling on it. Mustering up courage I whipped the package out quickly and relaxed. Mission complete. Making my way back quickly to the house, I felt a very slight, but real, pressure under my shoe, followed by a very distinctive CRRRUNNNNCH. The vision of a poor crushed snail flashed through my head as I froze for a second, then screamed like a wimp and scraped my shoe all over the patio frantically trying to remove any remains, whilst at the same time refusing to witness the crime I’d committed. More frantic scraping later I ran back into the house and tried to wipe my shoe without looking at it or being sick. It took two recorded episodes of Desperate Housewives to stop myself from shuddering. Once I’d composed myself I felt obliged to mop the floor which I’d run onto in a blind panic.

Poor snail, it’s still out there. I looked through the window before. Shudder. I need to update my delivery preferences with Debenhams. Quickly.

7 Comments

  1. Sally June 9, 2011 / 11:19 am

    Oh God, I HATE stepping on snails. But you know what’s worse than that? Slugs. Cos then there’s no shell between you and the slime.

    • mcai7td3 June 9, 2011 / 3:37 pm

      Ewww stop stop… *shudder shudder*

  2. Tim (aka Dotterel) June 9, 2011 / 11:24 am

    Well, a quick dash to the shed beats a trek to the sorting office – squashed snails or no!

  3. Rosie @Eco-Gites of Lenault June 23, 2014 / 7:21 am

    Oh dear! I hope the parcel was worth the dead snail. I once had a mouse DELIVERED to me! I came in a box of seeds and things I had ordered and must have been in the packing material in the packing shed. He was rather cute though and free of charge 😉
    Rosie @Eco-Gites of Lenault recently posted…Then and NowMy Profile

  4. Coombe Mill June 23, 2014 / 9:09 am

    Oh no, treading on snails is terrible I think it’s the noise that makes it so bad!

  5. Iona@Redpeffer June 23, 2014 / 9:41 am

    I do feel momentarily bad for stepping on snails, but then I remember the devastation they cause to my hard work in the garden and it passes 🙂
    Iona@Redpeffer recently posted…Growing upMy Profile

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