It’s that dreaded time of year when the sound of the doorbell of an evening probably means someone wants some money.
First it was the ‘Ebouers’ – dustmen. They haven’t been round for a couple of years, probably because when a separate charge for refuse collection was introduced people were rather cross, and may not have responded well to a request for money.
Well, they don’t actually ask for money: they sell you a calendar. The going rate for this rather small apology for a calendar is 10 euros, but as they come out twice a week whatever the weather and don’t grumble when we have five dustbin bags full I think they deserve it.
In the same week we had a visit from the ‘Pompiers’ – firemen. They also get 10 euros and their calendar was a series of firefighter related cartoons.
The only calendar worth having is the Post office one, which is full of useful information – even maps of local towns – and is big enough to put on the wall and use. Our postlady leaves a packet of calendars in the letter box so we can choose which picture we like and then we put the package back in the box with 10 euros in an envelope for her to collect the next day.
Besides these worthy causes we had a visit from the Blood Doners Association yesterday but they only received 5 euros because that’s all we could muster. It’s a shame because they give a small gift instead of a calendar and this year it was a really useful bag, just big enough to carry a phone and a purse, with an adjustable strap.
Someone delivers the newspapers at some unearthly hour every day except Sunday. He or she deserves a reward but I wouldn’t be too pleased if they rang the bell before daylight one morning. I suppose we could stick an envelope on the letter box one night . . .