Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Wait A Minute, Mr. Postman
I live on a rural, rural dead end country road, which is only 4 miles away from civilization. My husband and I bought seven acres on this road and live about 400 feet away from the road. We're the only house on the street to do this, but we wanted the privacy.
Due to the fact that my home can't be seen from the road, my mailbox has become a shining beacon for all seasons. I decorate it for each holiday, change in season, and during the summer, I just plant around it. It's my thing, my niche. I was the only one on my street to do this and as ridiculous as it sounds, it's a big deal for me. It's my way of telling the world, "Yes, our reclusive family celebrates the holidays and look, I garden too!"
My mailbox (which is antique with a custom-made chain by my hubby) looked like this for the summer months (minus the trash as this was taking on trash day):
Nothing grandiose. Mums in the ground, a galvanized pail of mums by the chain, morning glories growing up in back, rocks and mulch surrounded it all with little birdhouse chimes on top. Not my best work, but sufficient until out of the blue, my damned neighbor with the ugly mailbox does this:
Look at all those flowers! She took the design of my front yard (something only she can see when she meanders to my north forest and put it at her mailbox! Stumps as pedestals, real baskets! I was shocked, sickened, and dismayed all at the same time.
My mailbox became my obsession. I talked about it so much, my family began to just ignore me. My husband said I sounded like a maniac and deep down, yes, I knew it was true, but still, it was all I could think about.
I finally asked him to re-design our mailbox. I love my mailbox, but decided on red. I'd just do a simple brick border and plant all the yellow flowers I could find around it. My husband reluctantly agreed as he liked the mailbox as it was and had more important things to do.
When it was completed over the weekend, all the neighbors actually gathered around my husband to tell him how much they loved the mailbox. All except the bitch next door who was outside at the time, but decided to ignore the event. This was how I knew I'd won ... without stealing someone else's design, without going overboard, I had now secured best mailbox status for the road. My son says this is just one reason why he doesn't want to grow up ... fighting over who has the best mailbox. =/
Well, you be the judge:
