Blue skies today but very, very cold to venture out on foot delivering Green Party newsletters to places I never knew existed here in Worcester (even though I’ve been living here for twenty odd years.) Understand this though: this is the first time in thirty years I’ve been out delivering (I was responsible for the church magazine once a month, and I made damn sure every copy was delivered on time, and pushed through, all the way.)
I could now write a thesis on letter box design. My first ever job was a crack-of-dawn newspaper round, and I have to say draught excluders have come a long way since then. Draught excluders now come in a one- size- fits- all Rottweiller tear-off-your-fingers variety. As an artist I really value my finger tips (they’re neccessary for grip in order to wield my paint brush more accurately); without them I’d have to use my mouth or feet, and that would impact dramatically on my work.
“Watch out for dogs!” said Paul as I left. Well, number 19, you know who you are. The ground shook beneath my feet as the dog on the other side threw itself against the door, probably tearing the leaflet to shreds. I’ll never know what breed it was but my goodness it gave it some welly. Probably a UKIP household.
I couldn’t decide what to wear to do my delivering; my out-for-country-walk puffa green coat, slightly battered and could do with a wash, or my lime green tailored ready-but-late-for-the-Cathedral-as-always coat for “best”? I chose the latter since memories of Conservative canvassers darkening our door were always clad in tweed jacket, shirt and tie with nicely square 1940s short back and sides, so just in case anybody saw me I thought I’d better look respectable.
But first I had to take daughter for her drop-in-any-time free fringe trim at the hairdressers; she would be of no use whatsoever if she could not see what she was doing. I was proud to see she was wearing her emerald green hoodie – a complete coincidence I’m sure, but giving off the right subliminal message all the same.
So how did it go? Did I get to meet any of the punters? Well….
I only spoke to one man on our round, and it went something like this:
“What’s you putting out?” he asked.
“Leaflets for the Green Party!” I replied enthusiastically, with a friendly smile, hoping he’d notice my silver I-love-the-world-so-much-I- want-to-save-it heart shaped earrings.
“What’s that then? Painting the town green?” He paused. “Good for all the painters and decorators then!” he quipped. Better than painting the town red, I thought.
For a first time completely-green (as in naive) -leaflet-dropper, it went well. We found oases of verdant space we never knew existed, where houses with no letterbox got a leaflet anyway because of our “oh so focused” mother and daughter ingenuity.
I also dropped them into one very upmarket restaurant (people in glass houses) , a cafe, three hairdressers, two barbers, one post office, and even a tatoo parlour (very brave of me, I know); you see there might be a greener option they could try, telepathic piercing perhaps?
Afterwards I had a recuperative/restorative cup of coffee (Scotch would have been more appropriate) , then walked the dog over Hartlebury common (the great sand dunes are the closest thing to the coast if you’re not by the coast, and we weren’t by the coast.) This we followed with a nice pot of tea (green tea, of course) in the Palm Tree cafe at De Beers garden centre, owned by our friends Rachel and Tim. After the day I’d had it was nice to sit down; naturally.