Sundries

This is my small town post office, barely wide enough to accommodate two lines of customers on either side of a lengthwise counter (one coming, one going), or for someone to lean over to retrieve mail from the boxes that line each wall without bumping that counter or blocking the path. The clerks have a very cramped space in the back but they maintain their cheer for the most part. Post offices like these are a gathering spot for locals, to share news, gossip and talk politics. The clerks are often long-time residents of the area, if not the town itself, and so can be an invaluable source of information beyond postage rates and delivery times. It was this realization that led me to ask my postmistress if she knew what that boarded up building along the highway used to be, the one I sketched here. She pondered a few moments, getting it straight in her head what I was referring to, and was pretty sure it used to be a bar, until it got so rundown it had to be closed. "With living quarters above," I asked? "Yes," she nodded, "with living quarters above." It makes sense and now that mystery is solved.

We got a bit of snow last week, just an inch or so, so I was surprised to hear the unmistakable sound of snow shovels and took a look out my upstairs window to see who was being so industrious. Indeed, the lady across the street was clearing her driveway. I didn't see any kids about but apparently some had been busy. A closer look and I spotted quite the snowman next to the freshly-shoveled driveway.

Rather thought that hat a bit brilliant. Can't figure out what they used for hair or for the mouth and eyes for that matter. But what a cheery addition to the neighborhood!