I believe it was Plato who proclaimed that once "rock bottom" is called, it must be so.
OK, obviously I just made that up. But I will it to be true.
Awakened this morning, yet again, to filmy gray skies and falling snow. I'm relieved to see that the wall of white lining the front edge of my yard is not, in fact, above my head as it appeared in my dream last night, though it is almost high enough to obscure...
Wait, what the...
My mailbox, customarily seen bolted to its granite post, is not there. At least, it's not bolted to the post.
Rather, I see it has been gently perched atop the snowbank immediately to the left.
Fabulous.
How does that saying go? Neither rain nor sleet, nor dark of night...? Is there anything in there about "nor when your mail receptacle is torn off by a plow truck?"
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