I just finished wrapping my mailbox with duct tape to hold it to the post. It looks sorta like something that would get Jeff Foxworthy’s attention. Seems every time it snows, the plow comes roaring down the highway slinging fists of snow off its blade against the mail box, ripping it off it’s stand. Maybe it’s the plow man’s game to fend off the hours of boredom in a loud, bouncing truck. Looking down the road that I live on, I consider myself lucky. At least I found my mailbox – it doesn’t look as if many of my neighbors will find theirs. Their mail boxes are gone. I can only imagine that theirs are somewhere buried under the snow thousands of yards down the highway….probably with their mail still inside.
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