I guess the goal of writing a daily post was doomed from inception. My return to the work force last Monday effectively sealed that doom. But that's life, I guess. I will continue this record of my life on Nicollet Island, though no longer on a daily basis.
I spent today working on what I have dubbed "Operation Mailfox." It was so warm out (mid-February in Minnesota!) that I was working outdoors with no coat. In the early morn, I crept down to the eastern shore of the island where I had found and earmarked a fallen tree, which would be furnishing a branch to serve as my mailbox post. I brought along a saw and labored for about a half hour, since the branch had to be cut at both ends. There were a few passersby, whom I ignored, and who may have wondered why I was sawing a branch, or maybe they gave me no thought whatsoever.
I lugged the branch back home and set it aside until later, after I had obtained a weathered looking old whiskey barrel, typically used as a planter, at Home Depot, along with a couple of simple L-brackets. I also picked up (literally) a couple of 50-lb. bags of garden soil. Back home, I screwed the branch into the bottom of the barrel using the L-brackets, dumped in a layer of empty plastic coke bottles, then dumped in the 100 lbs of dirt. Oh, and before attaching the branch, I had also nailed a small rectanglar piece of wood to the top of the branch, upon which I intended to mount the mailbox, secured with a couple of screws on each side.
When I wasn't doing the above, I was inside applying three coats of polyurethane to the painting (of a fox) on the mailbox to help ensure that the acrylics paint could withstand the island elements and endure, hopefully as well as the living foxes could.
While I was outdoors working on my project, I walked to the car in front of the house to get something and who should I spot but old foxy himself, prowling around the house across the street! I crossed over and followed him around for a while, and he ultimately led me to E. Island Ave., where he crossed the road and descended the bluff, while I did likewise though I halted at the cliff and looked on from above. Meanwhile, I noticed a couple out strolling who had stopped to observe us both. After Mr. Fox effected his departure, I struck up a conversation with them, a friendly couple from Hopkins named Mark and Diane, out to enjoy this unseasonably warm day with a walk on Nicollet Island. I think they were entertained by the fox's performance, and by my less than graceful pursuit of him, with my crappy cell phone camera in hand.
I came back home, and some time later, mounted the mailbox on the post, and here you see the result. As weather permits, there will be shrubs/flowers/reeds/vines, etc. added to the planter. And this accounts for one day of my all too fleeting weekend.
Life flows on, in and around us—and when it flows in the form of letters and bills and solicitations, it must find a mailbox to receive it, come wind, snow, sleet, or driving rain.
D.E.S.
I spent today working on what I have dubbed "Operation Mailfox." It was so warm out (mid-February in Minnesota!) that I was working outdoors with no coat. In the early morn, I crept down to the eastern shore of the island where I had found and earmarked a fallen tree, which would be furnishing a branch to serve as my mailbox post. I brought along a saw and labored for about a half hour, since the branch had to be cut at both ends. There were a few passersby, whom I ignored, and who may have wondered why I was sawing a branch, or maybe they gave me no thought whatsoever.
I lugged the branch back home and set it aside until later, after I had obtained a weathered looking old whiskey barrel, typically used as a planter, at Home Depot, along with a couple of simple L-brackets. I also picked up (literally) a couple of 50-lb. bags of garden soil. Back home, I screwed the branch into the bottom of the barrel using the L-brackets, dumped in a layer of empty plastic coke bottles, then dumped in the 100 lbs of dirt. Oh, and before attaching the branch, I had also nailed a small rectanglar piece of wood to the top of the branch, upon which I intended to mount the mailbox, secured with a couple of screws on each side.
When I wasn't doing the above, I was inside applying three coats of polyurethane to the painting (of a fox) on the mailbox to help ensure that the acrylics paint could withstand the island elements and endure, hopefully as well as the living foxes could.
While I was outdoors working on my project, I walked to the car in front of the house to get something and who should I spot but old foxy himself, prowling around the house across the street! I crossed over and followed him around for a while, and he ultimately led me to E. Island Ave., where he crossed the road and descended the bluff, while I did likewise though I halted at the cliff and looked on from above. Meanwhile, I noticed a couple out strolling who had stopped to observe us both. After Mr. Fox effected his departure, I struck up a conversation with them, a friendly couple from Hopkins named Mark and Diane, out to enjoy this unseasonably warm day with a walk on Nicollet Island. I think they were entertained by the fox's performance, and by my less than graceful pursuit of him, with my crappy cell phone camera in hand.
I came back home, and some time later, mounted the mailbox on the post, and here you see the result. As weather permits, there will be shrubs/flowers/reeds/vines, etc. added to the planter. And this accounts for one day of my all too fleeting weekend.Life flows on, in and around us—and when it flows in the form of letters and bills and solicitations, it must find a mailbox to receive it, come wind, snow, sleet, or driving rain.
D.E.S.
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