handle with care

I arrived at the post office today as a postal worker was bringing a wide, low rectangular box out to a car. The box had holes, and I could hear peeping. As we both walked into the building, I asked, "Were those chicks?" And indeed they were.

The post office was very quiet at that time of day--except for cheeping and peeping! From the back room.

"I know I can't go back there," I said, "But can you take my phone back and take pictures?"

Well, he did better than that. He brought out a box of ducklings...



and then came a box of chicks!



"I guess these are all spoken for," I said wistfully.

"No, they're mainly going to tractor supply stores," he said.

But even though B'town is a right-to-farm community, I live in a neighborhood with a homeowner's association, and sadly, poultry is not allowed. We talked about backyard chickens, the price of eggs and the cost of feed, and homeowners associations.

I love my post office and the USPS generally. [That is your veiled political commentary for the day]