Mail and Stuff

My last blog was about hormones and hot flashes. One sharp eyed friend noticed the advertisement immediately following that blog was for a book entitled, "Why Men Leave Their Women".

Well.

I was coming home the other day and I noticed the car in front of me had their windows down. I assumed their air was broken, because it was 88 degrees. Then they shot out their arm in a left turn signal, so I figured their turn signal was broken, too. Except they kept on going, sometimes waving their hand around like they were drying their nails. In just a few, they flew their arm up in a right turn signal. I knew they weren't turning right as there were no right turns to make. And when they finally did turn, their signal worked just fine.

Made me wonder: were they too dumb to realize what they were doing? Had they never been taught manual turn signals? What?

When I got home, Husband greeted me with, "You are never going to believe what happened."

Now, at my house, that usually isn't followed by "I won a million dollars," or "The movies called and want to buy the rights to one of your books, " or, even, "I found a five dollar bill in an old jacket."

Nope. What happened was the mail carrier left a small box and two envelopes at the door. They left the envelopes on top of the small box. Our previous mail carrier, who was darn near perfect, would have slapped a rubber band around those envelopes to keep them secure, but the new one did not. So, when Husband picked up the box, the envelopes slid off. Right to the porch floor and through the crack between the planks, thusly: 

Now, I could have stood there all day (and so could have Husband) and tried to drop something between those planks and never succeeded. And realize, this wasn't one envelope but two. Wow.

So, not knowing if it was junk  mail or something important, he decided he had to crawl under the porch floor.

It is about six inches off the ground where they dropped, which meant he had to go clean to the far end (to your left)and crawl the whole length of the porch with a stick to swipe at the envelopes till he could pull them toward him.

I had two beautimous photos of Husband, one of him before and one after. But they disappeared into mysterious cyberspace, not to be found. He was dressed in a fishing hat, a long sleeve flannel shirt, old britches which were tucked under his socks, gloves, goggles and old shoes. So, just take a moment and savor what's in your imagination.

He was successful, junk mail and a bill.

One has to wonder if it was worth it.