Let's Have a 'Butchers' at Pies.

Today's excitement, such as it is, came from the arrival, eventually, of the famous 'Killie Pies.'  I thought I would try a different butcher to see what they were like and chose the pie claimed to be the best at Scottish football grounds.  

Naturally, with me involved things go wrong.  

For a start the famous 'Killie Pie' Butcher had a falling out with the famous 'Kilmarnock Football Club' where they were sold.  A dispute of the trademarking the name 'Killie,' a name Kilmarnock have trademarked years ago and are unwilling to lose.  The butchers, 'Brownings,' a local company, wished to trademark 'Killie Pie' the name used on the pies sold at the ground.  In spite of putting money into the club, in spite of making money from pie sales, and with an already bad feeling between owner and butcher, the dispute went to court.  'Brownings' now sell the 'Kilmarnock Pie,' and they sell well around Scotand's supermarkets.  What Kilmarnock use for their pies now I know not, but I think they call theirs 'Killie Pies.'  Not that there is anyone in the ground these days.

Anyway, the pies, steak pies at that, are not bad, I had two for lunch along with a mixture of salad veg.

It surprised me how long they took to deliver.  I ordered on a Tuesday and noticed they sent out the orders on a Wednesday.  However, acknowledgement implied the delivery would be the next week.  

So I waited.  

The next week I looked to the Thursday delivery and was surprised at no notification of delivery arriving.  I checked order, they have dated it for the next week again!  

What?  

Too late to worry, so I waited.

 

 

Last night an email informed me the delivery would be today.

Today I kept watch on the APC delivery log to see when and if.

Eventually the time of possible delivery appeared along with a map indicating drivers whereabouts.  This is a good idea but the DPD one is much better!

So, in between today's other jobs I was ignoring I watched the map.  

The driver followed a sensible tour round the town in a fashion I remember from the distant past when doing similar in London.

I waited.

Eventually the map said he was two drops away, just down the road, so I prepared.

I took the rubbish out, posted a wrongly delivered letter through correct door (another debt collector) and weeded a bit of the front.

Then I waited. 

The postman came, chatted and departed, informing me he is 62 (I call him the 'Old fellah,') and I waited.  

No van came.

I checked the map and for no good reason it no longer offered me a map!

The van had gone!

I checked, I was right, the van had gone, no map, no contact?

Had he missed me?  

Had he dropped me?  

Had he lost the packet?  

Would a man like me panic?

Yes!

I panicked sufficiently to phone the APC company, phoning is not what I do, it costs money!

A young woman with a 'tired' if not 'exasperated' voice convinced me, eventually, that he was on his way.  I accepted this with good grace, though I was puffing as I had rushed up the stairs!

Five minutes later the van arrived.

He smiled, offered the goods and departed to drop number 31.

She must have texted him to put his dinner aside and deliver the goods!

Satisfied I ate the pies, they were quite good, and understandably popular.

 

 

However, this must be compared to 'Murdoch' up there in Forres, the usual man who I order pies from. 

Had I ordered on Tuesday I suspect by evening I would have had an email informing me the order was on it's way, certainly this would have arrived by the next day.  The box would be taken to Inverness, trunked to Newcastle by midnight down the A9, and thence to Harlow by 6am, the time I was waking up. 

The white van man would load his van, press buttons on the computer, and by 10:30 I would know he was on his way.

Just after lunchtime, usually around two o'clock he would be banging on the door.  

So, within 24 or 48 hours I would have had a delivery.

Very good. 

Murdoch's 'Champion Scotch Pies' are also, Champion!

 

The chattering postman gave me one letter, a brown envelope!  These are usually things that demand a response to officialdom.  In days of old the had OHMS along the top with a 2 indicating it was 2nd class urgent.  In this case however, there was no indication along the top of the envelope, just an address on the rear.  

This was the new driving licence.  My age, 32, had demanded I renew the plastic card, so, as it cost nothing I renewed.  It is useful as an ID card if for nothing else.  

Considering I have not driven since getting it, no job, retirement, the pension, all combining to rob me of the transport I wished for and instead I have a Bus Pass!  Useful, but not quite what I had been dreaming off going through all that far off paperwork.  I could have done with transport this past few months.  

Anyway, I'm alive, and grateful for that.