I despaired in February about the number of houses with no name.
As I now distribute leaflets setting out our manifesto, I discover an even worse situation: the number of houses with no letter or post box. At one house I wandered aimlessly between gate, front and back doors (a long walk as it was a farmhouse with buildings attached) until the owner came out. She had obviously lived there for a long time. I apologised, said I was looking for the letter box to post my leaflet. She looked around. “Oh; I don’t think we’ve got one” she said in a slightly surprised way. She took the leaflet but said she would vote for me anyway.
Something similar happened near Belford: this time the owner was much more matter of fact, as though having no letter or post box was a deliberate plan. It must certainly make life much easier. Rather like having no phone.
Did I mention that it was pouring with rain as I walked around the house? I decided that while teams of volunteers (well, a few people) dropped off leaflets in the main centres I would traverse the countryside to try to cover everywhere else. A friend joined me for some of this; this was good as I could share my frustration about no letter boxes but bad as she always stopped by the muddy puddles.
I wonder why they have elections in May so all the work is done in the middle of April “showers?”
Rain, no house names, no letter boxes. And will anyone read the leaflets anyway? It’s no wonder sensible people don’t go into local government.
3 comments:
Is this where we produce a violin?!! I have one if you want me to play it next time you come round with your leaflet - that I have read! So has the farmer and I have to say, it's very impressive. Well done on the deliveries, can't have been easy with your set of wheels.
Only kidding!
CJ xx
Our house has a name, a number and a letter box, but sadly for you we have no vote - not even a 90% one to reflect our 90% Coucnil Tax.
Ooh, well,
I have the cunning strategy of maintaing a long garden path, and letterbox secreted along a dark alley, in the back door.
This attracts a number of different approaches, including trying to stuff paper through the keyhole, into the hinge, or under the ceramic rabbit which sits at our door.
Thankfully, the lads in charge of delivering bargain shopping opportunites avoid the house altogether- a habit I rather admire...
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