Ever since the blizzard on Wednesday, our mail has been suspiciously absent from our front entryway (and yes, we did shovel the front steps), and we (mostly I) quite miss it.
Not for the mail itself, which is usually composed of bills, unsolicited junk mail, the occasional catalogue, and very rarely, a letter or card from someone we know (I’m not really complaining — email more than makes up for it).
I like getting the mail because our front porch faces the south. On nice days, the sunlight is trapped in the little entryway, and between the screen door and the sturdy front door, for just long enough before the mail arrives in the afternoon.
When the mail falls through the mail slot and onto the floor — always with a distinctive crash that’s mildly alarming — I finish whatever sentence I’m writing or article I’m reading or item I’m tidying (or, let’s not kid, nap I’m having), and open the door into the entryway. It’s like a little sunny sauna on these bright-cold winter days.
P.S. A hearty congratulations to MC & JC, who welcomed baby JMC to the world on Thursday!