Tuesday, March 3, 2009

This Is Not My Shovel!

The morning of the big snow, I went out and set to work, but the shovel felt clunky and was leaving a ragged line. It was dinged, it was curled, it was metal, and it was red!

As some of you may know, my shovel is black.

My neighbor and snow-removal buddy reported that someone had rung her bell earlier to ask if she needed help clearing her walk. Had anyone rung mine? Nope. I surmise that the entrepreneur opened my gate, climbed the steps, and swapped out his own shovel for something better.

This theft, like the pilfering of my pumpkin, was essentially benign. Despite the loss, I felt in both cases that there might be some enchantment afoot--as if I might be keeping company with a a community of vaguely nefarious elves.

The real story is probably much harsher than that, and my experiences could be as well. I was grateful at least for the exchange, and besides I was fortunate enough to have a spare. As with the pumpkin, I hope the shovel helped.