Spring Cleaning With A Chance For Snow

The weather has been awesome up here. "Awesome" is defined as not requiring quilt-lined overalls or snow boots to walk the white Husky. Rainboots and a light jacket have sufficed for a few days now--at least in the afternoon. What better time to start spring cleaning?

I ran to town today for a few things, of which was an errand to the little lumber yard for a 6-foot 4x4 so that Mr. H could rehome our mailbox. The poor postal lady (and by this point she probably is postal) is afraid to put the mail into our mailbox, as winter weather conditions have turned our road--near the culvert--into an off-roading experience of about 57 degrees, left-sided tires up in the air. She left a bright green note in our mailbox pleading with us to relocate it.

Now, Farmer Ron is a faithful post office employee, when he's not taking care of his goats on ScapeGoat Farm. This guy never complains: he just took a serious plunk (he says "plunk" I say intercranial hemhorrage) to the head yesterday while attempting to cut down trees by himself--which he loves to do. I've seen this guy break ribs while doing barn chores and finish two more hours of tasks before taking himself to the emergency room!

My point is, I wonder how dicey our mailbox situation would have to get before even Farmer Ron wouldn't attempt it? I thought maybe our friendly postal worker was just a bit inconvenienced because she's driving on the wrong side of the vehicle and the coordination is a bit off upon lining up to our mailbox. Well, I came home from work and got the mail last night: ma'am, I brought home the 4x4 today and you now have a new mailbox location. Seriously, a few more weeks of melting snow and hot-cold cycles and one of us will end up "a@s over tea kettle" in the ditch. Lucky for me there's a built-in compass on my dashboard so I could actually see how far upside down I'd be. Joy.

The only problem is that the mailbox is now on the north side of the driveway instead of the south: I don't think I will remember where it's at! I'd bet there will be a few times when I come home and completely forget where Mr. H put it--it's now by the blue fire number sign that boldly displays our address. Dear mail lady, I hope you like your new mailbox configuration. We love you (she delivers packages up our driveway and inside the garage, even)--we must keep you happy!

The other item I picked up was a steam cleaner rental: it's about time I cleaned the carpets. After all, we've been living here for six months! I will probably regret doing this now as muddy foot season is right around the corner, but I couldn't stop her: Lily insisted on having clean carpets. Mr. H insisted she assist me, and this is how I spent two hours of my day today: