Our mailbox has finally fallen to bits. It has sat on top of a fencepost at the bottom of our drive for many years, and survived more than one assault from a teenager with a baseball bat. But it wasn't that which got it in the end. The door simply fell off - the hinges had rusted right through.

I managed to remove the top and sides, since it was only attached by a few small screws. But the base has been fixed on by four enormous coach bolts, which have rusted up and are impossible to undo. So I considered fixing the new one onto the base of the old one. This involves drilling holes through two layers of sheet steel. I don't have a 200m long mains cable, and I'm not sure if my battery operated drill will do it.

Meanwhile, I've sanded down an old bookshelf that got removed 5 years ago when we painted the hall. The landlord had meant to paint the bookshelf and put it back, but obviously hasn't remembered, so I decided to have a go. Unfortunately it's warped quite a bit so we might have some fun fitting it back in.

There's also the front steps which have big holes in them, the seat in the bay window which is still partly in bits, and the outside of the house hasn't been painted for years.

They're currently concentrating on building a house for Bronwyn's sister Claire and husband, which is currently progressing well. They've recently put in the water tanks, which are two big grey concrete structured half buried in the ground. Each has a serial number stencilled on the top. They look just like military bunkers.

Big jobs. Our landlord (Bronwyn's Dad) likes the big jobs with machinery and diggers. Same with Bronwyn's brothers. Not so hot on the fiddly bits to finish off!

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