Visions of Rachel Hunter that haunt you

Rough night – awake a lot with a running nose and coughing. Not quite hungover but it hasn’t helped. I’m officially sick. No longer the lurgy, this is the plague. Canada Post still on strike – Ian full of stories last night about how there is no interest in listening to what the posties are saying. The corporation came in and mandated new systems that simply don’t work. For example, postmen no longer sort the mail for their own routes. This might not seem like a big deal to you and me – but the people who are doing the sorting have no idea of the physical lay out of the routes, and are sending the posties all over the place. A normal 5-hour route can be 2-3 hours longer… Then there was the issue of rotating routes. Posties being sent anywhere in the city, not knowing the routes and not being able to learn them because they are changed every day. It has essentially removed the postman from the heart of the community. The union had recommended using posties as a tool to check on the elderly in the community; this was turned down – and, of course, if you are constantly rotating, you don’t get to know anyone. A real mess.
 
Spent the day in a bit of a muddle – again, I am blaming the illness. Skyped with some friends (briefly) out in Victoria, and then, just as I was about to sit down to dinner, had a phone call from my uncle in Vancouver. Once they reach a certain age, you begin to dread phone calls at weird times of the day – but this was just a catch-up call. I’d spoken to my aunt yesterday, but hadn’t spoken to him. So, he was filling me in on what it has been like to nursemaid Brenda over the past month, while she recovers from her hip operation. Then we started on the football. He’s an Evertonian, so he participates in these conversations with a certain degree of reticence.
 
Dinner – and then a Vicar of Dibley on DVD. I’d forgotten what these were like. The latter series delve into a fair few social topics, which help make for interesting conversations with the youngest member of the family. (I might have to go back and watch the Rachel Hunter walking down the stairs bit again, just to make sure I got it right…)


The blip is of my foot. I thought you'd prefer it to a photo of Rachel Hunter.