A Part of the Parish

The Current Mrs Creel departed for a swally in the Toon with three ex-colleagues. At last I tackled the behemoth.  When my mother was transferred to the Care Home we had to tidy up her affairs.  ‘Tidy’ is in the running for euphemism of the year.  Part of this was obtaining Power of Attorney.  She has a small account with one of the major financial institutions.  On the twelfth of January this year I started correspondence with them.  It wouldn’t take things further with out proof of Power of Attorney.  Fair play.  I scanned and sent off, then copied and sent off, then posted the original ‘wet ink’ POA by recorded delivery. All  as requested. Today I managed to talk to them (after being on hold for 32 minutes).  ‘I’m sorry sir, but our records show you do not have PoA’.  I pointed out I have two letters from them thanking me for sending the original PoA.’  I even read, verbatim, both letters over the phone.  ‘I can’t understand sir.’
 
I replaced the receiver and sent off my CV as part of my application to be the CEO of said organisation.
 
I spent some time throwing myself around my panic room and then took myself off around the Parish for a walk.  I met Cherie who gave me an update about bairns born and a pending wedding and her man’s employment. Desmond and Blanche have been low key, but I’ve been up to high doh.
 
The kettle’s on.