Writing seems to be easier at times than at other times. This said, finding the time to get to the post office to mail a letter seems like it should be an easier and more enjoyable experience than it is. We find ourselves at the post office, often to pick up registered or certified mail, terrifying us with what it could be this time. My mailman has stopped looking for the signature it hopes I overlook something and the legal ramifications become worse, or he is just plain sloppy. My wife hates him, she truly believes he hates us. I try to meet him at the edge of the driveway to shorten his walk. He ostensibly takes his midday break on the stoop across from us, smoking a cigarette and staring at our house, I believe chanting curses in our direction, beckoning our demise come quicker than his own.
One thing the post office has done to improve our lives is give us the ability to put our own pictures on our stamps. They even remind me in email, of this service. Well in the spirit of Nolly Posh posting where the short ones are as neccessary as the longer more meaning full ones. And in the the spirit of Living in a Tin Can and Gonescamping, I affectionately dedicate this post to Nolly, Deonne, and Snow. Happy Memorial day .