Every couple of weeks, we send for our mail. Usually, a good sized box arrives full of magazines and letters and bills. I like it when the mails arrive. My preference is always to read hard copy so I love to put the Weekly Standard magazines in chronological order and start reading, from the latest and working backwards. Ken does the opposite so we never argue about the issue we wish to read. And there's always a note or two with real hand writing which pleases me too.
Ken does not look forward to the arrival of the mail. As he does our accounting, the mails bring him lots to do and he doesn't really enjoy the process. Today, he asked me to contact three groups to change our address from the farm to our mailing service in Florida. It took me over an hour and I never was able to be successful with the Medicare.
The mails arrived yesterday. I quickly separated the piles...with a big pile for Ken and the magazines and notes for me. Since then, I have been reading, except when Ken gives me tasks.
Evidently, in Nova Scotia, the post office has built a group box, so instead of delivering mail to our mail box out by the road, we must now pick up the mail at the group box, which is not even close to our home. In fact, it is not even at Western Head. Now in Nova Scotia, we will probably do the same as we do now, which is get the mails every so often. But we are used to it so who cares. The trick will be to keep track of the keys to the box. Our mail is never easy.
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