gerisullivan | The further adventures of Geri Sullivan, Girl Homeowner [Some of everything, part 3]

What's wrong with this picture?
Well, there's the fact that I had to use a flash to take this photo at 4:15 pm a good six weeks before the winter solstice. That's wrong no matter how you cut it. But that's been true every other November 13th I've lived here, and in each of those four Novembers, there's been a mailbox secured to the top of the post'n'platform you see here. Ahem.

Wednesday afternoon I walked up the driveway to pick up the mail only to discover that not only was there no mail there, there was no mailbox, either. WTF?

I always figured that the hunk of granite next to the mailbox was deliberately placed. I'm sure it's saved many a drive-by mailbox crushings in the years it's been there. The rock and the sturdy metal post are not attractive targets for the sorts of vandals who led the Wales Librarian to hang her mailbox on chains from a sturdy nearby tree after losing several mailboxes to the bored youth of western Massachusetts. Alas, the Gentle Rock of Persuasion couldn't stop one or more someones from simply yanking the my box off its platform and making off with it.

I walked up Monson Road just a bit, looking along the side of the road to see if the vandals had abandoned the box once they'd experienced the thrill of ripping it off its post. (There being no other credible explanation for its disappearance that I could come up with.)

No luck. I headed up to the Post Office, hoping that the day's mail would be there, hoping the box had been stolen before the carrier put the day's mail in it.

Luck was with me there. Sure enough, Postmaster Jan retrieved a bundle of mail and said the carrier had already marked my sorting slot "no box" so they'd know to hold the mail at the post office until I replace the missing box.

There's no reason for me to take it personally. Jan reported that at least five other homes along Monson Road had their mailboxes stolen, too. I saw four of the empty poles within a mile of Toad Woods. Jan attributed it to the fact that Monson schools had been closed not just for Veteran's Day, but on Monday as well. It's not the first time local vandalism has coincided with school not being in session for several days running.

I searched for mailboxes online, amusing myself at the notion of ordering one when I didn't have a box for it to be delivered to. I live in a small town -- not only would the Post Office hold it for me, Jan would probably call to tell me when it arrived. Alas, the online mailbox vendors specialize in models costing $80-300 and more. I found a few for less, but nothing that matched the simple vinyl box that's serve me fine until it was stolen. A fancier box will just be that much more appealing to future thieves.

Thursday afternoon, I stopped at the Post Office for my mail, then headed down to Manchester to buy a new mailbox. Seven miles into the 30-mile drive, I realized I'd forgotten to measure the mounting board. The previous night's shopping research had revealed the fact that even standard rural delivery boxes come in a variety of sizes. I needed to know the size of the platform to have a hope of buying a box that will fit it.

It was rainy, and growing dark. I bailed on the shopping expedition and stayed home once I got back here. I'm glad I remembered the need for measurements as I was driving through Staffordville rather than when standing in front of the display at Lowe's.

The measurements are now in my purse and I'll probably print out the picture of the platform and take it with me tomorrow. With luck, I'll get up and out while there's plenty of daylight for the trip. Or maybe I'll just drive over to Monson; Squier & Company is an excellent hardware store. I'd be surprised if they didn't have a decent mailbox or two, though they may only have the metal ones. I don't think those age as well as the one that came with the house.

Mounting Mystery

I have no idea how the missing mailbox was actually mounted to its platform. It never exhibited any signs of wobbling or anything other than a firm attachment, but there are few signs of that on the platform itself. Four fasteners secure the platform to the pole. I don't recognize the heads, and that's saying something. They're not screw heads -- the surface is flat with six thin, raised lines radiating in a circular design. They're flush to the top of the board; I don't see how they were installed or how to remove them. Curious.

On the board itself, there are two small notches, one on each side, 4-3/8" from the front of the board, chiseled in 1/8" and 7/8" deep...and nothing else. Every online source I've seen speaks of screwing the box to the platform. There's no sign that's how my old mailbox was attached. The only residue on the board were several insect cocoons and cobwebs. Maybe some sort of adhesive? That might explain the odd coloration on the surface of the mounting board.

If I can't figure it out, I'll walk next door and ask my neighbor Ed for help. He's good with lumber and he knows how to solve problems like this one. Win-win.

The second biggest annoyance about this whole thing is that I'd finally found a set of mailbox numbers I liked. The usual peel-off kind don't last -- I'd been through three sets of them, and that was with letting them look crappy and peeling for months at a time before replacing them. A couple of months ago, I gambled on an actual set of self-stick house numbers. They were $3 each, but I have a 2-digit house number, so buying them for both sides of the box only set me back $12. They were larger, much easier to read, looked better, and appeared to be lasting. Here's hoping I can find a similar set for the new box.

Yes, that's a lot to say about my once and future mailbox. I am constantly croggled by how many details are involved in dealing with mundane household projects.