Special Delivery

I have suspected for some while that we have a new post-person, mail-lady, or whatever the current politically correct title is for the female who delivers the mail on our route.  Those suspicions were confirmed yesterday when I found a package in my mailbox.  The prior carrier would not deliver a package of any size, but would leave a little postcard notice.  That meant a trip up to the post office, hoping to time it just right.  Our little local post office is not open on Saturdays and closes completely for lunch.  The former mail-lady was an independent contractor in more ways than one.  That business about "Not snow nor rain nor heat..." did not apply to her.  If she didn't want to deliver the mail, she didn't.  One day a teen driver took the curve too fast and wiped out our bank of seven or eight mailboxes.  Steve was willing to build a replacement stand for all the boxes and we went to the postmaster to get the specifications.  He told us the carrier insisted the posts be put in concrete.  We pointed out in the printed Federal USPS instructions we'd been given that posts were not to be set in concrete.  "Hmmm.  Yes.  Well, she wants them in concrete so you'd best set them in concrete."  Guess we know who ruled that roost.  (That postmaster left some time ago.)  All this is just one of the quirks of rural life; we accept and adjust.  Most of my mail these days is addressed to Occupant or Resident anyway.  I felt pretty darned special, not only to receive a package, but to find it in my mailbox!