Mail Call

Sandwich Library ~ Books & the Internet

The farther out you live in the boondocks, the more exciting it is to receive mail. Our UPS driver is now considered a friend (shout out to Frank who likes to linger and chat), and USPS daily deliveries are practically lifelines. (Over-dramatization alert!) For one, we have our daily newspaper delivered. If we don’t get our Wall Street Journal, we have a hillbilly hissy fit. Why not just read it online, you ask? Because our Internet connection is slower than dial-up. When I want to upload photos to this website, I go to the public library. (See the photo — it’s got a Hansel & Gretel vibe, minus the hungry wicked witch, of course.)

Todd plowing our driveway

In fair weather, we sometimes find packages perched on top of our mailboxes. We haven’t had a problem with people driving by and helping themselves to our parcels. Knock wood and all that. In bad weather, we’ve had packages left in the sugar house, but this winter we were shocked by a new USPS mail delivery person who came all the way up our driveway even in deep snow. And he has a tiny little car. This brings new credibility to the quaint postal service unofficial motto: “Neither rain nor snow nor heat…” Wait a minute — heat?

Occasionally we’ll get a call from a UPS driver (not Frank) who’d rather not brave our driveway in snow and ice. (Heat doesn’t seem to be an issue, just sayin’.) He leaves our packages at the bottom of the driveway and lets us know so we can tromp down and fetch them before they’re buried. Very thoughtful.

No kidding!

We had a blizzard in March that passed through quickly but was ferociously windy. When we opened my mother’s mailbox the next day, this is what we saw. The wind had pushed the snow in, creating a plug. Behind the snow, the mail from the previous day was there, only a bit damp.

There are four mailboxes in our fleet — one for each of the houses associated with Booty Family Farm: Diane DB’s (the gold one), my mom’s, the Bartlett/Caswell family (green), and ours. Here are photos of them in the four seasons. Okay, one confession: I stuck the forsythia branches into the ground under the mailboxes because otherwise, the spring photo looked almost exactly like the fall one (minus the firewood). There is a huge forsythia bush on the other side of the road. Summer’s my favorite. I wonder who that package was for…

Winter

Spring

Summer

Fall