When I first moved to Oregon, I found a delightful place to live but this was the mailbox.
Damp concrete hole decorated with dead bugs? I don’t think so. I dragged the behemoth into the garage and mounted the standard black steel box in its stead while I scouted around for materials to flesh out my vision of clean lines and modernity.
I met a fourth generation farmer in the neighborhood who was re-siding his 100-year-old barn with fresh custom 12″ Douglas Fir slats. I told him I’d be more than happy to haul away a few of the old ones for him. The sweetheart gave me some new ones, instead. I added some cedar shakes and tar paper I found out in the greenhouse and…Voila! A mailbox to be proud of.
I simply built it around the post and metal box that was there. I painted the numbers on by hand to a removable piece that can be retired when the owner builds his house and new driveway all the way on the other side of the five acre plot.
I got lots of compliments on it and not a dead bug in sight.
July 23, 2007