Hunting for a lost parcel

is something which irritates, annoys, infuriates me. 

A friend in the United States had sent me "something". She did not tell me what the "something" was or how large or small it was. No, it was to be a "surprise". It was a "thank you for the hours of work you put in". 

That was nice of her, indeed of the whole team behind her. I was more than happy to help. There was a small boy who was going to be a lot less frustrated as a result of a team effort. All I had to do was direct things from afar...and at odd hours. 

No, that was not the problem. I had ordered from the company in question (yes, yarn of course!) and they had my old address. The dear friend who ordered the yarn used my new address but the system somehow rejected it and went back to my old address.

How do I know all of this? Because my friend sent me an email yesterday saying it had been delivered. She had just checked the "tracking" and there it was saying "delivered and left in a safe place".  Oh. I thought about this.

I have never wanted to go back to where the Senior Cat and I were living. It brings back too many memories and reminds too strongly of how much I miss him. I know the people who live there now have changed things and that the street is changing too. The neighbours across the way have told me that. 

But...would they have the parcel? It was supposed to have arrived on Thursday. They might have returned it already if they had been out and about. If it was small it could go in a post box with "RTS" on it for "return to sender". 

I swallowed hard and put on my bike helmet. Armed with a note for the people now living there I pedalled off. 

They were home. They saw me through the window. They have no curtains. We were told to take the old curtains down and they have never replaced them. 

The mother came to the door with a smile on her face. Yes, she knew who I was. I explained about the parcel. Yes, they had the parcel. They had been away for two nights and it was there when they came home. 

The parcel was duly produced and passed over. Did I want to come in and see what they had done to the place?

I declined. It would have felt intrusive and I really did not want to see how different it is now. 

We were told that they were likely living there as a temporary measure. That they would move on and renovate yet another property. There have been changes to regulations since then and they will likely to stay a lot longer. 

As I was leaving the mother said quietly to me, "We like it here. We have heard a lot about you and your father. It has helped us get to know the neighbours. Thank you."

I was the one supposed to be thanking her but I pedalled off feeling a bit more comfortable. The new regulations may not be to everyone's advantage but I hope they might provide the new family with the same good neighbours we had.