As Victoria and I stepped out into the morning sunlight yesterday, we noticed that the snow in our front yard had completely melted. (The snowblower piles in back have a ways to go.) On the ground we saw a straw hat that had at some point been on a snowman, then ended up *under* the snow. There was a plastic skull and a zombie hand that never made it inside before the flakes started falling. And in the bushes near the sidewalk, there was a plastic bag that had landed in amongst the branches.
When I reached to pull the plastic bag out the sidewalk, the bag pulled back. It weighed a ton! Inside: something like twenty or thirty metal door hinges, each still individually sealed in their original packaging. The bag was ripping — especially after aging in the bush for a while, it was far too thin and brittle to carry the heavy load.
When we brought it inside to ask Eggmaster, my husband, whether he was missing a 25 lb. bag of door hinges, he fell to his knees and exclaimed, “We have been blessed! Thank you, Lord,” and then began to bow to the bag.
manna from heaven?
This amused Violet greatly, but I don’t see the divine hand of beneficence in this particular gift.
We have batted about several theories, but none fully satisfy. What is the scenario that ends in a plastic Walgreens bag full of twenty to thirty brand new metal door hinges, still in the packaging, landing in our bushes?
This is where you, blog readers, tweeps, and Facebook friends, come in. Will you, please, please, explain this to us?
Here are some relevant clues:
1. They were in a Walgreens bag with no receipt, and the bag was tearing.
2. We live on a busy urban street, and our house is one house away from a bus stop on a busy route. It is also a designated bike route.
3. The bag was actually *in* the bush, which is about 3 feet above sidewalk level and a foot or two set back from the sidewalk, after a tall retaining wall and some other landscaping.
Send us your stories and our family will judge among them, with points for both plausibility and creativity!
What prizes you ask? That was the tough part. Here are the choices:
1. A book from our home library. [I was going to offer one of our superfluous copies of a classic, but then I thought, no — it’s completely plausible that we could need more than one copy of Paradise Lost or The Republic at some time. We need them both. *Maybe* we could spare the third copy of Jane Eyre.]
2. My voice on your home answering machine, ala Carl Kasell on NPR’s “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me.”
4. Fame and Glory.
5. A 25 lb. bag of door hinges. (Shipping not included.)