Our post – like many other things around here – runs at a rather more leisurely pace than you might be used to in the city (see also: broadband). The postman arrives about mid-morning, unless he arrives around lunchtime or indeed mid-afternoon. The post box is emptied once a day, at eleven – well, eleven-ish – when the postie happens to be passing. On the plus side, we never ever get one of those ‘missed delivery’ cards (although we do occasionally find the odd amazon package lurking in a forgotten corner of the shed a few days later) but generally we don’t expect much in the way of urgency from our post. As far as I’m concerned, posting something is more of an excuse for a gentle saunter to the post box on a fine and sunny morning than a way of getting anything anywhere quickly.
Which is why we were startled to notice this morning, having strolled down to post off the payment for the oil bill, that someone had injected an unaccustomed note of urgency into the whole affair: