Mail call

As (relatively) new homeowners, my husband and I get a lot of mail. Much of it from creditors eager to take over our loans or bury us under more debt (at a one-time special rate of xx%!, they scream). Our 70-year-old home is a mostly untouched colonial; we are only the second owners, having purchased it from the original owner's daughter, who grew up here.

Not that it's so 'historical', but we are grateful that the house is as it always was, without an addition tacked onto the back haphazardly, racing the arrival of a second child, as is so often the case in our neighborhood. We love the huge trees in the neighborhood, and the small set of shops a half-mile down the road (earlier this week I went to the dry cleaner, the post office, the pharmacy, the hardware store and the grocery all in the space of an hour!).

But I do wish our neighborhood did mailboxes instead of mail slots. I love coming home to mail, but hate the sight of it splayed on the floor of the foyer when I unlock the door. And I like the ritual of the trip, however short, to the self-contained mail unit, so tidy and neighborly, out there facing the road as a representative of our house and our family. Recently I tried to get some mail love back despite the slot, with the lovely pleated pocket front door organizer tutorial from Meg at Montessori by Hand. Very good and straightforward pattern. I decided to forgo the small front key pocket in favor of simplicity-- we're enjoying the results very much!

And just because we all need a little cuteness in our days, a gratuitous puppy pic.

Have a great weekend!