I have always painted our mailbox.
Every home we’ve ever lived in.
I would hate driving to the post office for a PO Box, but even worse?
Not being able to give directions to new friends that state at the end “just look for the only black mailbox with a big wooden sunflower on it!”
or, if they were coming from the East:
“Look for the only black mailbox with a big wooden bird on it!”
I painted these when we moved here, 6 plus years ago. I need a BIG mailbox because I am in a passionate, expensive affair with Amazon.com. We have frequent contact, and I need lots of space for those perfect brown boxes with the happy little black arrows swooshing across the front. But this is the toll of 6 rainy Oregon winters, despite sealer-
and I am too cheap frugal to throw out my hefty, substantial, Bertha of a mailbox. 5 years ago there were some rednecks that done come through these here parts, and bashed in almost every box for miles…but not a scratch to my Bertha.
That’s right. Even 16 yr old crazies who’d been huffing glue had enough brain cells left to look at her stalwart self and say “Save the Bat.” My girl is a SURVIVOR.
So I scraped and scraped and scraped. How could it be so hard? Then I remembered. I had thought industrial caulk would work better than hot glue, in sticking wood to metal.
boy, was I right.
However, I was finally victorious! Bertha is clean, sanded, nervous and shy but ready for her makeover. but no primer. Primer is for sissies. “Vee hov to suffer to bee beyutiful!”
I spray painted her in a hammered copper. I was going for a simple, Craftsman look. However, textured paint on a ribbed mailbox without primer to help it stick, slides down, making a splotchy, sloppy mess. She looked like Lindsay Lohan. The boys asked why I painted our box orange, did I now like the Beavers?! a friend asked did I mean to paint it that way? John said “that’s copper?” Paris Hilton called to ask for the brand of spraytan we’d used.
back to the drawing board. This time! Primer! Bertha’s a big girl. She’s been in the weather, working hard. She’s showing what time does-she needs her pores filled, her wrinkles plumped.
then “Heritage Red”. I told her it was Lipstick Red. Its good for her self-esteem.
Now she stands out as the ONLY red box on our 4 mile road, so my directions are getting easier…
I was actually really happy when the wood started rotting, and I could re-do. I no longer enjoy the chunky, cartoony, “obviously country” look. I think I embraced it most-(ironically)-when I was living in the city and longing for a homestead to plant our roots in. Now that I have that, I have learned that though I enjoy a lot of looks, the one that always, always speaks to me is what I call just