The Mailbox in Omaha

    The Mailbox in Omaha

         I reached out for the mailbox handle, felt my feet slipping out from under me, a loss of balance, and BAM, I felt the side of my face hit the pavement! I slowly stood, looked around, making sure there wasn’t an audience. As I stood, I felt my spine popping back into place and my knees throbbing from the unforgiving pavement covered with ice.

         For a moment, I remained still, again scoping out any potential on-lookers. However, after only a few moments that seemed like an eternity, my heart pounding loudly and breathe able to be seen in the cold December Air, I came to the conclusion that for once in my life, I had managed to survive yet another embarrassing moment without the usual witnesses.

         As I climb the slippery cement stairs that lead to the front door, I tightly grasp the rod-iron railing in hopes of not taking another plunge. Once again, before reaching for the door handle, I look over my shoulder, making sure no one is watching.

         I reach for the door handle, push the old storm door, and hear the usual loud thump of the door as it finally gives way. I slowly enter my home, slipping off my shoes, and close the door behind me with the same brisk amount of energy it took to open, closing, with another thump.

         Looking to my left, I realize I had forgotten to open the curtains in the front room. The front room is more like a sitting room. It is separated from the kitchen and dining room by a huge 13 foot wall and cathedral ceiling. There are two openings on both sides of this wall that either lead into the dining area or into the kitchen. The home is a tri-level.

         It is dark and I remember to open the window in the sitting room. As I walk over to the large bay window, I feel another bone in my shoulder adjusting from the hard impact. I reach for the curtain and pull to the left so it slides down the curtain rod, letting light into the room. As I reach for the right side of the curtain, sliding it down the curtain rod, I notice movement across the street.

         I push both curtains as far too each side as possible making sure I have a large viewing area. I see my retired neighbor, Bob, coming outside from within his garage. He is holding something and I cannot quite make out what it is. I push my forehead against the window pane, adjusting my eyes to get a clearer look, and see that he is now carefully walking toward his mailbox, shaking the unknown object from side to side.

         As I continue to watch my neighbor, Bob slowly move across his driveway, I finally see the object that he is shaking from side to side and realize it is a reused container of some kind filled with salt!  He ends in front of his mailbox and takes a few extra moments, ensuring that this area is well covered!

         So much for my un-noticed Susan Moment! Hah! It seems that I always have an audience and I am continuously embarrassing myself Susan style!