It’s one thing for my landlord to promise he’s going to take care of my muddy driveway this weekend. It’s quite another thing to sit around all weekend waiting for it to happen. I waited for some action for so long today, I began to wonder if maybe they’d been out there with the tractor before I even got up this morning.

But no, when I drove out to D.J.’s basketball game this afternoon, it was worse than ever. That’s really saying something, but it’s no exaggeration. It was absolutely the muddiest it’s been since the New Year’s Eve storm. I think it rained some in the night, but not enough to justify those kinds of conditions.

I actually feared for my life. Okay, not actually. But I had a sinking sensation as I drove through the mud, and I felt a big relief when I came out the other side.

When I got home from the game I was a little more composed and serene, having already made it through once today. But still, it’s kind of intimidating to look at a mud bog and wonder how many times my car will have to negotiate it. Not to mention when my landlord will follow through on his promise to take care of it.

After I got home, and just before dark, I pulled on my boots and walked out to check my mail. I knew there would be no mail. There had been no mail in my box for three days in a row, and it’s now clear that it’s not an oversight. The carrier is deliberately avoiding my driveway. But I had to check, because if I’m going to ask the postal carrier to make it through the mud, I can’t do it unless I’m willing and able to make it through myself.

Monday I’ll check in with the postmaster and see what they’re doing with my mail. Or maybe Tuesday, if I think the mail truck will have an easier time after my landlord takes care of the mud tomorrow, as promised.