Here are the holiday statistics.
Five weeks. 46 books in a total of 34 packages, of which 17 were cardboard and 14 jiffy bags and three ‘other.’ It took close to an hour opening them, and another hour to sort into piles; want to read, might try and won’t bother with. (The photo below does not indicate any of this. But it does illustrate how nicely wrapped two of the books were.)
I spent the time when Mrs Pendolino coiffed the hair belonging to the Resident IT Consultant slitting all the packages open. Then I rested between mowing the grass on the hottest day of the year by sorting the books by interesting-ness.
Most of them actually made it through the slit in the front door, which is why the Resident IT Consultant – being a gentleman, as well as slimmer than the Bookwitch – needed to squeeze through the barely open door to give the post you see below a good shove.
Little Flower’s Granny had received one package and the Next Door Neighbour another couple. In fact, the books saved the lives of the pansies in the hanging basket. When NDN decided to take my advice and dive into our bins to see if they would yield more books, she was aghast to notice some almost dead pansies nearby, that she had missed as the rescue operation of the potted plants on the other side of the house had taken place.
But some last minute resuscitation of the poor dears (which appears to have involved cutting their heads off…) means we still have live flowers by the back door.
The NDN do so much more for us than we do for them. CPR on pansies, mowing grass, making tea for the fire brigade, and so on. Whereas we let them park their car on our drive and lent them our kitchen mixer. It’s just not in the same class.
Could I give them a book as a thank you?