It’s in the Post

I have written a cheque this morning – my first this year – worthy of a cuckoo letter to The Times?

Last year I wrote one cheque and in 2021 four. I used to use up a cheque book every three months. Many were payable “Cash” and I queued at a City branch of Lloyds to get the folding stuff. I opened an account with Lloyds (Guards & Cavalry Branch) in 1973. Since then Lloyds has got more customers and more people have bank accounts, so my account starts with three zeros as account numbers have got longer. I cherish my James Bond-esque triple zero status almost as much as my Scotch Malt Whisky Society membership number.

My grandfather’s account was with The Bank of England. As you know it was nationalised in 1946 but it took a while for existing customers to be jettisoned. His cheques were so large they could have served as small table cloths or very large napkins. I never expected to see another until a friend got a job at the bank and had to have an account with his employer.

My grandfather expressed surprise at how little the world changed in his lifetime (1890 – 1981). I’m surprised how quickly it has changed in mine (1954 – ?). Louis delivers The Times Monday to Friday and the postman the mail Monday to Saturday. Louis is not an early riser so the paper drops through the letterbox after 9.00. On Saturday WeekendFT is delivered – I don’t know how but it is on the doorstep by 7.00. It is inevitable that the newspaper boy and the postman will go the way of the milkman and the meter reader.

I hate to repeat things here but as it was ages ago you may have forgotten this picture of the postman on the drive at Barmeath being “held up” by a determined gang of juvenile delinquents.