just another perk

Well, the longer we live in the holla, the more I realize that its benefits just keep on givin'.


*Water from the well that goes away with any power outage due to the pump being powered by electricity.


*Poison ivy whose vines are large enough to swing from Tarzan-style.


*Redneck laundry.


*Creepy uber-poisonous spiders that appear out of nowhere.


*Wood roaches that sneak in when you're not looking (probably while doing redneck laundry) that considering their size could be claimed on our taxes.


*Swarm-like masses of gnats that would rival the plague.



And just this week, a new benefit.



*Reverse mail delivery.


Yeah. This is a good one.


You see, I am accustomed to delivery trucks whose drivers pull up and politely "beep beep" just to let you know they are making their way to your door with a package. That way if you're home, they will kindly place it inside the door for you. Nice guys they are.


But this week I heard a "beep beep" and while I was peeling a toddler off my leg and lugging the chubby bubby on my hip, I heard a "BEEEEP BEEEEP!!!!"


Hmmm. I thought to myself. I wonder who that could be.


So I opened the door to see our mail carrier stopped in front of our house with the window of the pick-up truck rolled down. You see, in the holla, we don't get the usual mail "jeep" but a pick-up truck.


Anyway, I smiled and waved and said, "Good Afternoon!"


"I've got a package for you," she replied flatly.


So I looked at her.


And she continued to look at me.


And I looked at her.


And she looked at me. Not blinking. Not even a twitch to indicate that she might actually get out of her vehicle to bring me my mail.


I was beginning to wonder if this was the start of a stand-off on our little lane in the holla. Should I hold her eye? Should I wait her out?


Beginning to feel like an idiot, my "be nice at all most costs" illness began to kick in, and I caved.


So I said, "I'll get my shoes?" Yes, that was a question.


To which she replied, "M'kay." And pretended to do something in her truck.


All the while, I'm thinking...


We have one of these.




















And normally when I am looking for my mail, I can find it in my...





















But perhaps, my "package" won't fit. But still, don't they usually bring your mail to the door? Never in all my born days have I had to GO GET IT unless they left me a little note to pick something up at the post office which is reasonable and customary.


Realizing she was not going to budge, I quickly slipped on some shoes (so SHE would not have to wait... *cough* *cough* dang illness.) and went to the mail truck to retrieve my mail.


I thanked her, though I'm not sure for what, and she peeled away, slinging a little gravel, and went on her mail-delivering way.


Hmph.


At least she doesn't drive by at a high rate of speed and fling it all out in the yard like the mail-carrying maniac in the movie "Funny Farm." Y'all remember that?


Maybe next time we'll have a stand-off.


Heh. Who am I kidding? I'll probably have to make the rest of her deliveries.


*cough* *cough*