So sometime during this week of snow, cold weather and earthquakes, someone ran into the mailbox (not the one in the picture, but the one by the street in front of the house.)

I’m not sure who exactly did this because no one has confessed, but have narrowed it down to the snowplow or the mail lady herself. I was working at home that day, observing the world from my second floor window which is next to my computer. That morning about seven I had gone how to shovel and the mailbox was still upright and in one piece. When I went to actually get the mail about three, the mailbox itself (not the post) had been clipped and was now on its side, hanging by a row of screws. The piece of wood serving as a platform was split in half. A snowplow had come down the street, but on the other side and didn’t seem to clear our side of the street – so I really hate to blame them. The mail lady however, has been skidding on the ice all week.

Anyhow, no one was confessing so I figured it was mine to fix. I looked it over. One post. One platform screwed to the post. One mailbox screwed to the platform.  Didn’t look that complicated if I had tools – which I do – somewhere.

Each night I would push it back in place as much as possible and each day the weight of the mail would make it bend over and hang once again.

I knew I would have to do something and I knew I would probably need help – but I hesitated to ask anyone.

Then yesterday I thought – This would be a good weekend to work on the mailbox because there is no mail Monday. I had to go to Elgin Saturday morning, so on the way home I stopped at Home Depot, bought the cheapest box possible (just in case, someone else slid into it) and talked to the mailbox expert about the mechanics of putting the mailbox back up. So, I had the mailbox and the screws, but what I needed was the perfectly cut piece of wood to fit under the mailbox rim for the platform.  I came home, found a piece of wood and then got the saw and went to work. Took awhile (a lot longer than it would take most handymen – or women – in the world), but I sort of got it. I was just a smidgen off the perfect fit. So, then I turned on the electric sander and got it down to the exactly-right-size.

Oh, I was PROUD OF MYSELF (remember, pride goes before a fall).  Now, if I could find the cordless drill, I’d be all set. But I couldn’t find it and knew it would have to be charged anyhow.

So, I finally gave in and asked Steve (the world’s best son-in-law) to screw it on the post.

“But I have the platform done,” I told him, holding up my perfectly crafted piece of wood – which AT THAT VERY MOMENT slipped out of  my hand, hit the table leg and split in two on the floor!


Actually, though, he was able to fit it together and still use it and once again the mailbox is ready for mail.

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