My husband, the handy man.

We inherited our mailbox when we bought our house and though it wasn’t an example of postal beauty by any means, it did do its job. Lately, however, it was starting to lean decidedly backwards which caused all the snow that fell on it to land squarely inside and wet our mail.

Now, I’m the type to just let the mail air-dry and appreciate the crinkling it does once dry but my lovely hubby had other ideas. No mailbox of his was going to sit there, staring up into the sky if he could do anything about it. So, armed with duck tape and the dogs, he went to fix it.

This is our mailbox now.


No need to say anything more, is there?

4 thoughts on “My husband, the handy man.

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