Mailbox matters

(Note: I had plans for a big post about the chainsaw/wood carver neighbor that I finally met on a recent walk, but the dotter caused a major distraction by sending me this link, which was all about Oz. F'rinstance, did you know that Princess Leia's do was inspired by the two poppy earmuffs that Princess Ozma always wore? But, enough!)

On to more mundane matters, such as mailboxes for the individualist. Or (above) for Miss Kitty's Cat House, that wonderful cottage on Granite Street inhabited only by felines.

A neat post to support these prosaic boxes -- they are mounted on a very large, tall pine tree.

Then there is this cute little barn I came across recently. Bet these folks subscribe to magazines -- the container is quite wide enough.

Pigs were in favor in one neighborhood -- a good way to recycle small tin cans, apparently.

But the pigs and barns and such are the product of city dwellers working to distinguish themselves from one another. Out on the desert countryside, the mail remains an important lifeline to the rest of the world. I find the occasional row of boxes out in the middle of nowhere evocative of a yesterday that most of us never knew.

The Postman Cometh

One wouldn't want one's mailbox to look naked, would one? It just wouldn't be seemly. Especially in a fine, upstanding Southern city like Memphis. The bro came back with these pictures of strange fortified receptacles for one's catalogs, junk, bills and Christmas cards.

In an area of fine brick houses, of course. Note the nice touch with the red flag. Bro did query and found out that, on occasion, a car backs into one of these steles and all comes tumbling down.

Compare those camouflaged tin boxes with the upfront approach offered by commercially available mailbox wallpaper. In all manner of subjects, from the ridiculous to the not-so-ridiculous. A lot more fun and flexible.

While the subject is postal, here's an old fashioned approach to mail that was retired to the museum down in Skull Valley. These boxes were housed in one section of the general store for years until Uncle finally ponied up for a separate new PO for the rural area. Whatever. I continue to be fascinated with the many ways our mail containers reflect our approach to life in general.

Walking Downtown

Yesterday was a beautiful, crisp (but not cold) October day. Perfect for a walk down to the Sal to buy a couple of items for Mom's Halloween costume. The official fall colors post is already on line, but I couldn't resist this tree collection. The reds are actually berries on a prolific pyracantha; in a couple of months, I know where to find hungry robins hanging out!

Along the way, I tried a short little street that I hadn't visited in years. And was rewarded with this mailbox set! The word cute is in order here.

And this curious Halloween display. Didn't have time to read the epitaphs on the painted stones, as I was being razzed by a couple of the denizens out having a smoke.

It also seemed like a good day to photograph this office building that is peopled primarily by medic types. The colors always catch my eye: mildew (upper) and mushroom (lower & woodwork.) My apologies -- these are good subdued earthy colors that meld well into a nicely landscaped background -- nonetheless, my descriptions stand -- mildew and mushroom.

Wonder how long this admonition has been cast in cement. Nice touch: the hand and paw prints. Note to the folks who are all up tight about the Liquor Barn moving across the street a few feet closer to the middle school -- this inscription is yet closer.

What must visitors from other countries think when they try to understand some of our standard civic abbreviations? Whenever I first see this sign, my two years of high school Latin pop into my mind and ped = foot, which is close! Then there's that intrusion of the religious X for cross into a paid-by-taxes sign. Tsk! Tsk!

Nearly to my goal. The corner of Montezuma and Goodwin is Candidate Central. Oh yes, propositions, too. The only problem with this colorful ephemera is that faded signs will remain after their purpose is long forgotten. A suggestion for the petition passers -- how about promoting a law, with teeth, fining every politician for every day that his signs are standing after election day.


Finally, the Sal thrift store. Home of yesterday's meticuously hand-crocheted projects...

...a good computer department (already including one machine running XP)

and yesterday's hot gizmo fads. This is the place to buy your next food processor ... bread baker ... crock pot ... air freshener ... toaster oven ... whatever. I love the place, but sometimes looking at the cast offs makes me kinda sad for the short life of stuff.

A Mailbox for GrannyJ

The tale begins with my neighbor, who looked at the trees in her yard and decided that it was time for the treeman to bring his chain saw. Problem #1: the Siberian elms -- host to myriad leaf miners who left major windows in the leaves (above and below), which then yellowed fast and ugly. Problem #2: a mighty oak, which had served well over the years but was now dying.

The tale now switches back in time 20 or so years, when husband and I moved into the present house. There was no mail box; there didn't seem to be a good location for one. We dithered. Twenty or so years we dithered. As a stopgap measure, we rented two drawers at the post office downtown.

Enough already, I decided a month ago; it's time for a mailbox at home. I had signed up with FreeCycle Prescott, a wonderful service for unburdening yourself of stuff -- or locating a splendid item, such as a heavy-duty, locking mailbox for a mere nothing.

So I engaged Chris, the chef-treeman, to find/make a home for the new mailbox. He suggested the big stump of the big oak that he dropped next door. It was all systems, go. (Above) Holes in the bottom for rebar to anchor the stump in the granite that lies just six inches under the "soil" .

A major chain saw job to make the cut-out for the box. A problem encountered: grains of granite become embedded in the bark and in each year's tree ring. One sharpening later, it was time to mount the box.

And here I am, with a splendid new mailbox out front, waiting only for the house number and a reflector to protect it from parking cars. Already I have received my very first junk mail at home! Wow. (And I can add this receptacle to my collection of mailboxes with character.)

Incidentally, did I mention the other stump cut-offs I scored? They will make grand seating around and about the yard -- but do take note of the rotted heartwood, which is why the tree was on its way out. And why the stump could never have been transformed into one of those wonderful chain-saw dogs or bears or some such.
Aside from those grains of embedded granite, that is.

Ladybug, Ladybug...

...fly away home. Not much else to say about these rather stationary critters, except that they are already firmly at home. The upper bug at an apartment complex, and the lower flock out Thumb Butte road. I kinda like 'em.


Later Note: Reviewing this post I realized that there was certainly more to say about ladybugs here in the Prescott area. Twice, my late husband and I saw mountain tops festooned by ladybug swarms -- once when we climbed Glen Oaks, the other time after a drive to the top of Mt. Union. Here are some good pictures of swarms from California.

Iron Springs Road Trio

Drove out to Granite Basin today with my late husband's son and his family. In the past I hadn't noticed any special sights on this trip out to one of my favorite local spots in the forest.

However, today I caught sight of two notable mail boxes, above and below. As someone with more than a little touch of printer's ink in my veins, I particularly cotton to the receptacle attached to the old flat bed press. As my daughter would say, "Kewl!"


The third sight, however, was truly unexpected on this grey, rainy day. The huge, rusty, metallic saurian was the most outstanding of the many animal sculpts visible on this estate's grounds. We found ourselves wondering if the property owner and the creator were one and the same! If I had the room, I wouldn't mind owning this fellow!