I am not happy. I will try to catch the mailman tomorrow and see if he will honk when he arrives and I will come right out. If not, no mail til I can get a replacement.
If I’m paying attention I can hear him coming and he’s on the other side of the cul-de-sac. Then I can get down the stairs and out to the curb by the time he gets to my house. A lot of “ifs” in there, especially since he doesn’t come at the same time every day and I don’t move very fast.
Poor all of you. Hope Bella feels better, too.
I’d hazard a guess that “I’m not happy” is an understatement. I’m still trying to figure out how it happened. Your neighbors’ driveways aren’t situated where they’d hit it backing out, unless one of them was reeeeeeally drunk.
I hope you can catch the mailman tomorrow and work out something so you can get your mail until you get a new mailbox.
We’ll survive the ragweed. We always do. But it sure is the pits dealing with it while it’s here. It wasn’t TOO bad until it rained yesterday. Now that those darn weeds have gotten a drink, they’re really putting out the pollen.