I am not the best at checking my mail. Sometimes I go...two? Three weeks in between? I know I know. This is not my proudest moment. But when you have a locked mail box, it just doesn't seem as urgent. Until you go out of town for a week and come home only to discover the mailman has deemed your home vacant. And rather than being greeted by a bulging mailbox last night, I was left a singular bright orange piece of paper with the word "VACANT" (all caps) printed across the top and a request that I, the new tenant, please write my name on the slip so the mail man would know who's mail would now be coming to my mail box. Nuts.
It was all cleared up after a quick call this morning and Ty agreeing to drive to the post office to pick up our bin (yes, entire bin) of mail waiting for us. The kind woman on the phone, who turned slightly irritated when she realized just how much mail I had been neglecting, informed me I should be checking the mail at least every 3 days. I agreed I would. I may have to set a reminder on my phone or something.
In other news, Ty and I spent this last week at a condo at Snowbird. It was snowy and freezing, but our condo was cozy and wonderful. Pics and post to come.