Skip to main content

Flattened



Friday my daughter received a message that something she had ordered was being returned to sender because it couldn’t be delivered. She went out to the mailbox to see what was going on. She was surprised.



What on earth took this thing out?   We didn’t hear anything untoward. Could it have simply come loose from the ground by itself, or was it the victim of foul play? Feel free to send me your theories, both likely and fanciful.

In the meantime we have to go to the post office to fetch our mail.

The communal mailboxes are such a quirky Columbia thing, to my mind. I wonder if they even still make them. Are they antiques? An obsolete remnant of our community’s past? Is there a warehouse somewhere in Columbia where the last few of their kind wait to be deployed? 

If you travel outside of the Columbubble more than I, you may have reason to know whether communal mailboxes are more widely in use in other places. I certainly had never seen them before I moved here. Most of the time they work just fine for us. We have had the occasional mishap where a letter carrier was so eager to avoid walking up to our house that they wedged a dubiously large package into our mailbox, rendering all mail extraction impossible. Other than that, walking down to get the mail is just a part of our daily lives and we don’t mind it.

What if you had to design an “all new for 2021” Columbia communal mailbox? What would it look like? Would it have any new design features or cool technological capabilities? Or do you get so little mail these days that the entire concept feels obsolete to you?

In the meantime, if you have any information as to what brought this poor mailbox to a bad end, let me know. 



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Teacher Gifts

Today is the last day of school before the Winter Break. It’s a good time to remember the far-reaching nature of our public school system. You may not have children. You may have sent your children to independent schools. It matters not. You will be impacted one way or another. Yesterday I read a long thread on Facebook about several waves of illness in the schools right now. There’s influenza A and norovirus, I believe. And of course there’s COVID. Apparently in some individual schools the rate of illness is high enough for school admin to notify parents.  When I was little the acceptable holiday gift for a teacher was one of those lovely floral handkerchief squares. (I don’t know what it was for male teachers. They were rare in my elementary years.) These days the range of teacher gifts is wider and I have fond memories of Target gift cards which I have written about before. I think it’s safe to say that giving one’s teacher Influenza, norovirus, or COVID is not the ideal holiday...

They Can Wait

This is not a typical Saturday post. That’s because, in my community, it’s not a typical Saturday.  Oakland Mills High School, after years of deferred repair, needs massive renovation. It’s pretty simple: when you don’t fix a problem it gets bigger. The school system itself said the the OMHS school building was  "no longer conducive to learning" back in 2018.  2018 .  But Thursday the Boad of Education voted to push it out of the lineup of important projects which will be given the go-ahead to proceed soonest.  In my opinion it’s a terrible decision and sets a dangerous precedent. To explain, here’s the advocacy letter I sent in support of Oakland Mills High School. I was rather proud of it. I am writing to ask you to proceed with needed renovation at Oakland Mills High School in the most timely and comprehensive manner humanly possible. I have read the letter sent to you by the Oakland Mills Community Association and I am in complete agreement. You are extremel...

Columbia Chance Connection

  Last night, as my husband and I were about to sit down to dinner, our front door swung open and a cheery voice announced, “I’m ba—ack!”  We weren’t expecting anyone. Clearly the only people who’d walk right in to our house would be one of our offspring. I had my reading glasses on so I wasn’t seeing too clearly. It seemed too tall for our youngest, but we knew our eldest was at work. I took off my glasses to see a friendly but confused face scanning our living room. When her gaze landed on us we all had a sudden realization. We didn’t know eachother. “Oh I’m so sorry! I’m in the wrong house! My daughter just moved in and she needed hooks for the kitchen so I ran out to get them.” She waved the package. “All these houses look the same and I don’t know the neighborhood yet. I thought this was my daughter’s house.” We were all getting a bit giggly. “That’s okay. For a quick second we thought you were our daughter,” said my husband. I told her our names and said she should defin...