I’m expecting a book delivery by post. As it happens, a couple of times earlier friends have sent me a parcel and for some inexplicable reason they were always returned to the sender with a cross over my perfectly clearly and correctly written name and address. Once the parcel was labeled “Unknown” as if I had ceased to exist or started a new life like Pirandello’s late Mattia Pascal, who went to gamble in Monte Carlo was it? 

Well, now I have learnt that it is not the post that delivers these parcels in this country - or in this commune - the classique “it’s not us!” defence was uttered from behind the counter when I expressed my dissatisfaction of the service at the post office. It is the taxipost who delivers packages, not the post. 

Today I found a note in the mailbox saying that the taxipost had tried to deliver my books, but I was out of reach. Mr. Murphy strikes again… So I called them to fix a second delivery, that I can now expect to happen some time tomorrow. Typically, their estimated delivery time is between 9am and 7pm!  These companies are still stuck with the era of housewives who are always home, polishing the silver and making dinners to their hard working husbands? Oh, pauvre Belgique!