Here in the country our daily mail is delivered by a lady in a pick-up truck. She doesn't wear a blue postal uniform, nor does she utilize those stuffy, little forms given to her by the post office.
She likes to leave me a post-it note and let me know if I have a box at the office. The post-it in this picture was to let me know that she had left a box in the back of our farm truck, so the dogs wouldn't bother it.
She is also full of conversation, has given me gardening tips, and always asks about the kids. On one occasion, when our cows were out, she even offered to help round them up.
How could I ever go back to life with the impersonal mailman?