Every time I walk past the door in the Rue du Four Banal that has this lovely old letterbox I feel a twinge of mourning for our old letterbox.
A couple of days after we moved into our little house, the fearsome post lady arrived and declared our letterbox unsuitable and insisted that we go out and buy a regulation yellow metal box, which now sits on a pole outside the house, looking incredibly businesslike and very ugly.
The old letterbox was despatched to the déchetterie. We removed it completely because it was ill-fitting and the cause of one of the many huge draughts. It was not a pretty thing, like the one above. It was also highly impractical. The post lady would never have been able to stuff the reams of inevitable junk mail through it.
Every time I walk past this door in Ligeuil I can’t help wondering “why”. It’s such a handsome door. Someone must have been proud of it at some time.
Every time I see one of these I have to smile. We see lots of them in our area, some immaculately restored, some completely battered with bits missing and straw sticking out of the back. Mostly they are just running around, used as everyday transport, as if there’s nothing at all remarkable in that.
Every time I see one of these, my heart skips a beat. One day. And it will be lime green or purple. With matching interior. Unless I have grown out of my lime green and purple phase by the time I get one. Red like this is good.
Every time I sit on my garden bench and look at the house with the château behind I pinch myself and think that if this is real, I must be the luckiest person in the world.
Only another six weeks to go…..
Bon weekend !!