Confused live plants
Which means that the Post Office, in its grand obsession to become the best post office it can possibly be*, had x-rayed my parcel, discovered that the mailroom at the little-bitty-garden-plant supply company was a trifle muddled that day, and instructed my postal delivery person to handle this precious article in the manner most appropriate, as opposed to the directions stated. I will never complain about our noble Post Office again.**
* Post Office, you’ll note, singular. They’re busy closing all the rest of them. Soon we’ll all have to commute to Eigg to buy stamps.
** And if you believe any of this farrago, might I interest you in this bridge I just happen to have for sale? At a very reasonable price, in fact almost exactly what the loft conversion on a small bungalow in a Hampshire village might cost. . . .
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