Saturday morning is the day I lie in. This Saturday morning I’d received two visitors before 9 a.m.
The first slunk in unnoticed. He drove his van up the drive and left his calling card in full view by the front door. I discovered this at 6.45 a.m . when I got up to make coffee to take back to bed and unlock the front door in case our son dropped by on his early morning run.
The surprise delivery sat there, delivered by the courier man in darkness without any fuss, a carton of 14 bottles of wine ordered from the Wine Society two nights before. I never considered how much 14 bottles of wine weighed before. I struggled inside, wishing I had octopus arms, hoping I wouldn’t let the contents fall with a smash to the floor.
There was nothing discreet about this delivery. The carton had New Zealand Wine Society and Passionate about Wine printed on the outside. No doubt the courier driver realised I must be too by ordering so many bottles. But it was a bargain I couldn’t resist and my wine supply needed replenishing.
The second visitor arrived right on the dot of nine. My husband, dressed, was watching TV. I, still dressed in my dressing gown tied with an old purple scarf and with a head of unbrushed hair, sat on the couch reading from my new Kindle. Anyone coming to the front door peers straight into our lounge, so hiding isn’t an option. We can be seen before we see the visitor.
This early visitor was a friend, who’d offered me a pumpkin she had no need for. Its winter here in NZ and she’d kindly braved the cold, wet morning to drop it off for me on her way to the local market. I was mortified at the sight I presented as I went to the door. It’s a wonder she didn’t drop the pumpkin and run in fright!
After her departure and I’d recovered from my embarrassment I started laughing. Thank heavens the wine wasn’t still on the doorstep. Thank heavens I was at least out of bed, even if not properly dressed. Thank goodness last night’s dishes weren’t still on the bench as they sometimes can be Saturday morning.
Quite respectable for me at nine on a Saturday morning I thought.
Have you ever been embarrassed by unexpected visitors? Why not share your embarrassment with us. I need to know I’m not the only Saturday slob in the world.