the parallels between the television series of yore *
green acres* and the pile of omelays are scary. one example is our post master jeff or heffe as i call him. when we first moved here he told us to move our mailbox because a circle drive isn't within government parameters. i moved it across the street and made a modest approach which was promptly rejected by the delivery girl--some hateful grudge toward us that involved years of pining for our little homestead. we simply paid for a mail box at the post office. a year and a half later we decided to pursue a house box because it will be easier for tabitha to get pressing mail without relying on me to drive there. in the interim heffe transferred to another rural post office. the new postmaster authorized in concert with the delivery girl that putting our mail box back in it's original location would be fine. bastards...
anyway, recently heffe returned under dubious circumstances from the other rural post office. he promptly needed to drop by to see our new calf. upon arrival he promptly displayed his wares mr haney style. he had a kitten in a white postal bulk box. it was too young to be weaned and demanded that the only chance it had for survival was fresh colostrum from our cow. tabitha couldn't refuse and wouldn't let me refuse either.
well here she is Hermione Underfoot O'Melay
mr haney aka heffe aka jeff the post master got us again.....
5 comments:
I also have found that the post office regulations are hard and fast immutable truths that are at the whim and up to the interpretation of any and every postal employee....
we've been attempting to move our mailbox for almost 3 years now (it's switched with our next door neighbor's box) and have gotten the run around. no one can find our house by our street address.
hermione is cute. you need lots of cats! (we have 5). they keep the mouse, rat and mole population pared down a bit.
She is sweet! At our old house, we loving referred to our postman as the "mail nazi". Nuff said.
I'm so sorry to hear about your mailbox troubles. We've been battling the post office for years ... mostly over snow. It's (apparently) against regulations for the delivery person to get out of his truck to put mail in our boxes, and so if we haven't shoveled or plowed in front of our boxes close enough so that he can just pull and deliver the mail, he won't, sometimes, or if it's a different person, he might. We never know. It can be very aggravating.
Suckers! Who can resist a sweet little long-haired kitten? (I should know)
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