It’s just after 6:30 p.m. and we had a chicken stir-fry (hate to tell you, but the best stir fry comes from cleaning out the fridge, and the chicken was salvaged out of a soup my husband made that was, well, not really edible as is. He left the whole chicken in too long until it fell apart in shreds and those little bones were interspersed throughout) and fried Chinese noodles that I made with hot oil, celery seed, a dash of soy, ground ginger, garlic and dried mustard. It was excellent, but thinking ahead two weeks, I can’t see me sitting in a classroom two nights a week from 6:30 until 9:30 and staying awake after a full meal.
In other household news (no, I’m not turning into one of those daily life report blogs, just today), the man came home and fixed the post on the mailbox which I couldn’t do–I just fixed the top part. He then proceeded to tell me what was structurally wrong with it.
Now in this town, mailboxes do not have an easy life. If they survive the winter snowplows, they usually get creamed by high-flying cars on our lovely curves, or backed into pulling out of driveways. There are no expensive mailboxes in Burlington. Someone once tried one of those hundred-dollar hard plastic enclosed thingies and we all just drove by regularly to see if it would stand up to the stress, doubting it would be the answer to our prayers. It didn’t make it into the first snowfall. Our town may be the only one that keeps a supply of mailboxes in stock for the newer residents who haven’t settled in enough yet and call Town Hall to complain. Our mailbox once finished out a winter duct-taped to the post and the neighbor’s box. Another neighbor keeps a spare mailbox mounted on a pole and embedded in a bucket of cement on wheels to replace one that’s beyond repairing–meaning, you can’t find all the parts somewhere down the road.
So please, if you happen to come by our way, don’t look down on our beaten up mail receptacles, don’t snicker at our contrived plywood protective barriers; just know that after living in Burlington through your first winter, you learn to adjust, and we’re a frugal folk, but friendly too.
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