Tires & Mail...

The saga of replacing tires is...hopefully...complete. The second new tire was put on my car Tuesday afternoon. Yippee!! This nail hole was supposedly tiny but I would leave my tire full at night and in the morning it would be down by 15-20 psi. Not good at all. Now I have two band new tires on the left side of my car. With that in place, I was able to take Papa on a ride yesterday afternoon. He was very happy. And, he was also very happy I wasn't driving around anymore with a nail in my tire.

After getting this second new tire installed, I made a trip to the post office. Here's that story (there is always a story). 

While we were driving home from Michigan, I got a call from Papa on my cell phone. Let me just say that I was fine that Tuesday morning when we left Michigan. I was sleepy and opened the remainder of the unsalted cashews Claude had in a little bag. Claude and I shared them. He also had a small bag with some red licorice bits left over. I had a few of them. Not long after I was not well at all. Claude pulled in to get gas and I hit the bathroom. This was going to be a dicey ride home. I was sick to my stomach in every way possible. Claude was tasked with purchasing me some Pepto to hopefully get me back on track. I started that as we pulled out of the gas station. Nonetheless, after another hour or so, I suggested Claude find another gas station. He did and I did and it was a bit better. During all this is when I received the first call from Papa. 

It seems Papa received a package in his mail box. It was white and looked like what his medicines come in. He opened the package and found a brand new back pack inside. Then he knew this was not for him. He looked at the label and realized the address was his but the name over the address was some lady's name. He pulled out his phone book and tried to find her name in the book. No such name. He called me then because 'we have a problem'. I assured him I would take care of it the next day when I saw him. He was nearly frantic because it was shipped two day and he was sure someone needed that package. I assured him one more day wouldn't matter. 

A little time passed and I was just worn out physically. Then my cell phone rings and it is Papa again. This time he tells me he has been trying all the people with that last name in the phone book and can't find anyone who knows that name and he just doesn't know what to do. Geez!! I can only imagine what those phone calls were like. Oh to be a fly on the wall for that experience. I told him to just leave the package on his table and I truly would take care of it the next day. There was simply nothing else we could do. Then I tried to rest...

Wednesday I went to Papa's apartment. The package was on the table. No packing slip with more information on the inside. There was a company name on the outside. I'm guessing someone with that name mis-typed their address when ordering something on-line. I check USPS on line and found a place to enter a tracking number an explain your problem. I did that leaving my name and phone number for them to call back. Left the package on Papa's table in case his mailman returned to get the package. 

A day or two later, no phone call, not text. I took the package and told Papa I would check with the Sadieville postmaster to get a suggestion as to what to do with this package. Before my Friends of Sadieville meeting I visited the Sadieville post office. She taped up the package and told me to take it back to Georgetown, explain to them what happened and they would return to sender or have the carrier be sure if he recognizes the name as another home on his route. If the Sadieville post master returned it I would be paying postage for that. 

Tuesday, after the tire I took the package back to Georgetown's post office, explained what had happened and she took the package. Yippee!! It was out of our hands. 

I found a very cool thing while in the post office. This little craft would be perfect for our Andie. She is teaching a 4th grade class this year. She keeps pens on her desk and the kids borrow them. To make sure they are returned, she uses unique pens that clearly belong to her. The pens in a little vase at the post office were cheap ball point pens with a silk flower attached to them with green floral tape. Simple to make and your flower pens are clearly yours and not the kids. It would also be a nice little gift for other teachers. So many possibilities.

As I left the post office parking lot, I noticed a big bush at the end of the lot. It was already reddish orange. Fall is on its way!!