Grab the women and children! Run for the hills! We’re doomed. Okay, maybe a bit of an exaggeration, but it has been a long time since we last had sun, and today is sunny. To add to the wonder, the sky is blue. It is, however, quite cold at 27˚ with a wind making it feel colder. I will admire the pretty day from inside the house.

I woke up and slid off the mattress to the floor propelled by dogs wishing me good morning. It wasn’t a long drop. It was mostly a slide. My mattress top had shifted beyond the side of the mattress. I sat on nothing; hence, the slide.

I have ordered delivery from Agway. The dogs will expect to eat today. Yesterday I went out the back door, looked into the yard and noticed cloth. I knew right away what it was from its colors. It was the Asafo flag I brought back from Ghana, a flag of the Fante tribe representing militias of a sort from villages. The flag has hand stitch appliqué figures and dates from sometime before 1957. I ran into the yard horrified but hopeful. Nala, the destroyer of worlds, usually just drags cloth and its kin into the yard and leaves it intact. I picked it up-intact, no damage.

I decided to clean the yard a bit. It had torn paper and pieces of cartons strew about the yard close to the end of the deck. I knew the perp. What comes next is the surprise. A few days ago, maybe three or four, my 4 Red Sox wooden coasters and a beaded giraffe from Ghana disappeared from a living room table. Without question or hesitation, I knew the perp. I found one coaster in the house, but the rest went missing. Yesterday, with cloth safely in hand, I noticed near where the cloth had been left were a couple of shallow dog holes. Near the holes, I saw one then another red disc. I turned the red discs over. Two Red Sox coasters found, only one still missing. Next to one disc was the beaded giraffe, intact, unharmed. The biggest surprise was the small tagine top lying sideways in the dirt. The top with a white background and swirls of black across the white was a piece from one of the three, wonderfully colorful, small tagines I had brought back from Morocco. The top went missing months ago. Only the saucer like bottom had been left on the hearth. I never found the top. I finally adjusted to its loss and stopped looking at the empty saucer. Without question or hesitation, I knew the perp.

I couldn’t believe it. There it was, the tagine top, intact, lying on its side next to a mound of dirt. I felt a bit like an archaeologist. I held up my find, my serendipitous find, to the sun, proverbially. The tagine is back on the saucer on the hearth. I hope it stays there.

Wait!! There is more! As I was cleaning trash in there same area as the other finds, I unearthed the hand cream I had just bought. I didn’t even know it was missing yet, and here, I find it in the yard, near the dirt. The tube was fine, no holes.

The last find is a sad one. There were red thin slats on the ground in the yard. I knew right away what they had been. They were from the Santa’s suit basket, belt and below, my friend had brought me with some cookies, not enough, I think, warm, fuzzy socks, and bread. It was a neat basket. I found no large pieces. I could have collected all the individual pieces but it would have taken forever. I left them in the yard. Without question or hesitation, I knew the perp.

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This entry was posted on January 4, 2022 at 1:09 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. Both comments and pings are currently closed.