Ordinary Work Day ... NOT.

It was supposed to be an ordinary work-day for Sarah. Subbing a route at the post office one town over from us--how complicated could it be? There was only one issue: yours truly was her most humble driver. Or would that be "humbling"?

Maybe I forgot that the slot numbers were ABOVE the slots (not below) at least fifty times; and maybe I was responsible for hitting, oh, perhaps five mailboxes; and maybe I nearly raced by a third of the mailboxes on the route.

Still, I wasn't the one who flipped one mailbox flag up so hard that it arced magnificently over the van onto the road. Or got the key stuck in one group box.

Well, we're in this together, right sis? And what's life without a little excitement?

Here we go at the death-defying speed of
35 kms/hr.

Why don't mailbox designers win awards?
They're lucky if they get their photo printed in a magazine.

Maybe the spiders sent out a complaint about the poor ventilation.

Rawther opinionated, some folks.

Mail-carrier's reply:
"I would, if the slightest push didn't put your mailbox in mortal danger of falling over."

A much classier means of delivering mail, methinks.

Don't ever attempt to take a picture when you're driving up a hill while attempting to steer, and keep an eye on the camera screen, and the view in front, and the rear- and side-mirrors, when unknown vehicles going as fast as you are could be trundling up the other side--

well, just don't do it.

It simply defines unique.

Would you look at this? The construction crew actually swerved the road a bit while paving so the mailcarriers wouldn't have to drive in a rut. Good ol' small-town courtesy for youse.

And this striking contrast is the official but very much so recognized (especially when you're driving into it) dividing line between our town and the neighbouring town.

Just think of every bone-jarring, teeth-rattling jolt as the potholes' unique way of conveying the heart-warming message: "Welcome to our town, folks!"

Outhouses built especially for desperate mail-carriers.

(Maybe.)

Originality-award-worthy: not everyone uses a paint-scraper for a mailbox flag.

Had to stop and admire this neat little stream a recent rain had created.

Through sleet and snow and rain and fog the mailcarriers press on. Down mud roads like this? Forget it.

Think we're in farming country?

How's that for a day-brightener? :D

The mayor's residence. If you look closely, you'll observe that he has his own personal landfill site (ritzy, eh?). And a moat. Complete with piranhas.

(Maybe.)

A taste of the "auld country"!

Rural group mailboxes.

(Maybe.)

My dream house.

Aha! Mighty Duct tape inevitably had to show itself somewhere. And isn't that a creative little train? Fitting, since the tracks are a stone's throw away.

Trying to scare away junk mail?

Hope youse are laughing as hard as I am after all this nonsense. :D)))

Jenn