Those of you that have read me for any length of time must surely remember me talking about the “Motive Mailbox.” If I ever kill my husband, this damn mailbox will be the motive. If not, here’s the short version of the story.
I bought a brand new, beautiful, sturdy mailbox in 2003 and the installation thereof went onto Gruff’s To Do list. The mailbox has resided on the floor of the living room, next to the television, taunting me ever since. No longer.
My mailbox has been properly installed (in March 2015) and is the most gorgeous mailbox the post office has ever approved or seen. I am absolutely giddy about it and have already been outside to clean it with Windex and soft cloths.
So take heart, those of you waiting on Honey-Do list items to be accomplished. It can happen. Even after a dozen years, it can happen. Well, it happened because we had a house fire and contractors were here anyway fixing stuff and they tackled the mailbox, but let’s not quibble. My mailbox is up and I love, love, love it. Now I have no motive. Life is good.
Less Than Ladylike 