It’s been a funny old week. It started in recovery from a whisky-fuelled weekend in Edinburgh and ended up on the sofa with a hot water bottle, nursing a bad back and catching up on recorded tellybox.
Oh and then there was good old Barney, who stormed through our back garden taking a rather large rhododendron with him.
To be fair, the shrub was already dead before the storm struck, having been ravaged by frosts before we moved into OneandSeventy, but the structure it provided in the garden will be sorely missed… especially by the Honeysuckle and Sweet Peas I started growing up it this summer. *sigh*
C’est la vie.
On the bright side, the recent spell of squally weather has seen fewer doorstep marketers hawking their wares.
Although that also could have something to do with the rather unique sign on our front door!
When we moved here, Beloved and I had no idea this town was such a rich target for cold callers. Honestly, we’ve been inundated with salesmen, some of them quite rude, turning up unannounced on the doorstep selling everything from double glazing to solar panels.
But since crafting my very own “No Cold Callers” sign a few months ago, we haven’t had a single unsolicited caller.
This pleases me greatly, because I hate cold callers.
There. I said it.
OK, “hate” is a strong word. And really, it’s not the salespeople I dislike (unless they’re of the rude variety). After all, everyone has a job to do, right? But I do object to companies who send people to my door several times a week, or randomly call my home at all hours of the day.
I’ve never seen so much spam since moving to the Midlands.
And I don’t mean the battered kind!
As a career PA in London and the South East, I’ve fielded my fair share of sales calls. I’ve heard every smarmy line going and been called “love” and “darling” more times than I care to remember.
I didn’t like cold calling when I was in the corporate world and I especially don’t like it on my doorstep.
From the moment the doorbell rings in the middle of the day and I gaze upon the heads of yet more salesmen, my heckles rise and I become primed and ready for confrontation. I really do pity the poor bastards who interrupt me while I’m working (especially the cocky ones!).
So, I made a sign.
And it works!
No more cold callers!
It also gets quite a chuckle from those people we actually DO want to welcome to our home, most of whom want a sign just like it, while others laughingly declare they haven’t brought any single malt.
What do you mean you haven’t brought whisky?!?!
It’s just as well I like you!
A hui hou,