When we've done it in the past we've called an Uber but I'm slightly concerned at the moment about the prospect of being cooped up in what is essentially a mobile Coronavirus incubator. Still, after this week the likelihood of getting a delivery slot is slim so I think we're going to have to bite the bullet, strap on the face masks and wander down to Morrison's. In the meantime though, we have tonight's delivery which was booked over three weeks ago when the world was slightly less surreal.
I'm not sure who is in charge of making substitutions at Asda when they're out of stock but judging by what happened last time I suspect they don't take their role too seriously. One of the missing items on that drop off was a bottle of 'Premium Collection' Viognier which I was quite looking forward to. Upon discovering it absent from the shelves, however, the clown on picking duty thought it completely acceptable to substitute it with a bottle of that staple of the seventies dinner party, Black Tower. I was distraught, naturally, not that it stopped me from drinking it of course. Waste not want not and all that.
I've just had an email to tell me what's changed on today's order and while some of it is absolutely acceptable - Rigatoni instead of Penne, flat leaf parsley instead of curly leaf - I was agog when I read that the fancy vanilla ice cream I spent ages choosing last night is being swapped for strawberry, and (horror of horrors) the two bars of Galaxy chocolate are being replaced by Twirls! Somebody is having a laugh at my expense.
In addition to that the Maldon salt, which I threw in the basket at the last minute but didn't really need yet, is being replaced by rock salt, the sort you need a grinder for, a grinder which we don't have. I'll save it for winter and use it on the drive I think.
In addition we will not be getting either Chris's hair dye, a lockdown whim which he knew he could experiment with safe in the knowledge that nobody would see the results, or the broccoli quiche. Now I understand that substituting Light Ash for Frosted Beige is a dangerous game to play, particularly as they're not accepting returns at the moment, but broccoli quiche? Surely a nice cheese and onion, or a fresh summer vegetables could have been dug up from somewhere, Christ, I'd even accept a flan if push came to shove!
Ahead of tonights grocery drop off, Chris has popped out for some essentials we forgot to order, latex gloves and antibacterial gel to hand, and while he's there he's going to keep an eye out for the latest summer shade.
In other delivery news, we ordered a tin of masonry paint nearly two weeks ago which still hasn't been delivered. The other items in the order arrived, a few days late but at least we have them. When Chris queried the missing item Homebase told him that it has to come from the manufacturer, Crown Paints who I know are only some twenty five miles away in East Lancashire, to their shop in Altrincham to then be dispatched from there to us. I absolutely appreciate that the world is on its arse at the moment but I'm struggling to see how logistics have broken down to the extent that a tin of Alpine Blue takes nearly three weeks to travel across the North West. Maybe Homebase are helping prepare the new Nightingale hospital in the city centre, in which case I will absolutely forgive them, or perhaps their drivers are poorly, or the staff at Crown. Who knows? I tell you what though, when it arrives it's going to transform our terrace!
POST SCRIPTUM:
Chris has just arrived back from his shopping trip with all manner of goodies, like an April Father Christmas! He now has his hair dye and by this evening will be a bombshell of forties movie proportions, he also brought back a large bar of Galaxy chocolate which has made my day, and another addition for the Gnome Zone at the back of the garden!
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