Going Postal

My postman scared me the other day.  Actually, it was my on damn fault.  It's just sometimes it's easy to forget there are other people who use this road.

See, where I live, the dirt road crosses over a cattle-gap.  Then you are on the Farm.  The road meanders past my place (about a half mile from the cattle-gap) and down over the hill, past a pond (stocked with brim and catfish), and up over a little knoll, across another cattle gap, past the biggest and oldest house in the county (my landlords, who also are my closest neighbors), round a rather sharp curve, and then the road peters out in front of a trailor that is someone elses (my landlord just rents the lot to him).

So ya see, unless you have a reason to be out here, you wouldn't be.  I forget though that folks like garbagemen and mailmen come down this road on a regular basis.  And really, I'm glad they do.  But sometimes I forget that.

So, knowing that the rest of the folks out here are gone in the middle of the day, cuz they work or go pick up kids or something, I was retrieving a bowl that I'd let Shaddow get the goodies out of (mmmmmmmmmmmm chicken and rice with mushroom sauce mmmmmmmmmm).  She licked the bowl so clean that she moved it with her tongue into the middle of the yard.  I went out to pick it up and was half way back to the house when a man spoke up (I really should be more careful).  He said something like, "uuuuuuuuuh, excuse me, but I have this package that won't fit in your mail box".  So with as much grace and nonchalance as I could muster, I went to him, took the package and wished him a good day, after I thanked him.  Calmly, (DO NOT RUN) I went into my house, bowl in one hand, box in the other.  Clothed in my whitee tightees and undershirt.  sigh.  Oh, that'll be a story to share over holiday dinners...oh, yeah, well on my shift.....