“I can do that!”

Phone pics 671I remember looking out my window at the mailman throwing letters  into the mail box at the edge of our yard and thinking, ‘I can do that!’ What a simple job – driving around in a car, probably listening to the radio and singing while thumbing through some letters. No one bothering you, waving at people (this is the country and we do that.)

Eleven years ago, when my youngest son graduated and was starting a job , I felt called to get back into the workforce. I didn’t know what to do, didn’t want to travel far from home, you know, the usual requirements. . . so I asked the Lord to show me what to do. Before looking through the help wanted section of the newspaper, I had to stop at the Post Office and get some stamps, and there it was: Help Wanted, TRC, $10.50 per hour.

Suddenly, that warm memory of driving down the road throwing letters in a box flowed over me.  I went up to the counter and spoke to the man who would be my first Postmaster, and applied for the job.

That was April 2003. With the blazing speed of Government bureaucracy, I carried mail the following July. Suffice it to say – it was nothing like I thought it would be.

11 years later, I’ve a route of my own and spend my days covering the streets of small town America, 50 feet at a time. OK, maybe 100 feet at a time – average – whatever.

But this blog is not about carrying mail, though there are many funny moments there, too. e.g. “Mrs. Jones is deceased and doesn’t live here anymore.”   (Whew! I was glad to hear they weren’t keeping her in the house now that she’s deceased. )

There are a lot of good mail carriers out there and I think most people know that. There are no perfect ones, but having the attitude of wanting to be perfect should count for something. No one is more disappointed than I am when I make an error. I try to make a difference in these people’s lives. I live my life before them as an invisible presence. We meet, we wave, I smile, I make them laugh.
I go the extra mile whenever possible, hoping they will notice that I care.
I am their mailma’aPhone pics 671m.
Phone pics 671

What I want to accomplish with this blog is to entertain, inspire, inform, and have some tangible proof of how much I enjoy life. I am the same age my Dad was when he died, (61) and that may seem like an ominous  warning, propelling me to type out my life story for posterity! On the other hand, my Mom just turned 92 last month – meh! I may be here awhile, who knows!  Either way, I must write! I just don’t have time for a novel right now. Funny how work interferes with life. . .

Sung to the tune of “My Favorite Things”

Life as a mailmaam is full of surprises
starting my day as the morning sun rises
I work in an office where everyone sings
and these are a few of my favorite things

First, make sure there’s lots of coffee to guzzle
then sort the mail like a big giant puzzle
UPS, Fed-Ex, and Amazon Prime
all are delivered precisely on time!

Mr. Thacker’s
new weed whacker
finally came today!
Oh Boy! Does it get any better than this?
We’ll pack up and head your way!

Little white bags filled with your medications
Holding your mail while you go on vacations
Dodging the yard sales and big garbage cans
Plus, my right arm’s getting such a nice tan!

I’ll safeguard your photos – won’t bend your diplomas!
Send off this package to Byng, Oklahoma!
As far as I know no one’s cherished a FAX
Keep sending those letters and they will give back!

I hit Thumper
with my bumper!
Rabbits should be banned!
Tomorrow  it’s deja’ vue over again
‘Cause I am your ma-il maam!

 

If you would see fit to subscribe and follow this blog, I’d love to hear your comments and take you down this road with me. I promise to ‘deliver’ some funny moments and thoughts on where we’re going – all while I travel the exact same streets, with the same names and same numbers every . single . day.