mr. postman.

i love. love. love. getting mail.

not bills. but real mail. letters. cards. notes. magazines. even some junk mail thrown in there for good measure.

love walking to the mail box. pulling out a pile of mail.

love it at valentine's day when all the envelopes are pink and red.

love the idea that someone thought and went to the effort of putting something in the mail to me.

call me old-fashioned. oh, sure email. is good. but there's nothing better than getting your very own piece of mail.

and now. due to this darn economy. the post office might start delivering one day less each week. the day is to be determined. possibly saturday or tuesday. possibly only in the summer. only in some areas. and of course. this is all tbd. isn't it always?

but i am sad. another loss of tradition. of going to get the mail. remember when the mailmen (that's what they were called when i was a kid) actually walked the neighborhood? would put the mail in your door? would wave and smile and chat? knew you? would sometimes even bring lollipops?

yes, i know that makes me sound ancient. but it was routine. it was exciting to get a letter from a friend. or a grandmom. it was exciting that it was yours. and now.

well. the mail in our neighborhood is delivered by truck to a community box. and soon it seems it might come one less day...and for that i am sad.