I am craving a solution to two tiny domestic mysteries: we’ve got a ghost in the house. A ghost, or a tricky house elf, or an invisible door that leads to a pit of no return into which random objects are being tossed. First, it was Fooey’s brand-new blue water bottle. She remembers carrying it into the house after piano lessons, and she remembers setting it down beside her shoes in the front hall. While I can’t corroborate her story, I remember seeing it in the truck beside her when I strapped her in just before we left piano lessons. How could it have gotten lost between piano lessons and home? But, it is gone. She set it beside her shoes in the front hallway, and we haven’t seen it since.
Next, AppleApple remembers removing her lunch box from her school bag last Wednesday and setting it down … well, she doesn’t know where, exactly. She’s a drifting sort of child. Suffice it to say, we haven’t seen it since. Disappeared. I have searched the lost and found at school, she’s searched her classroom (just in case her memory was in error), and we’ve combed every surface, cupboard, and drawer in the house. The bag was a junkie grocery store special, but it was full of lovely reusable containers and a thermos. Gone.
These small mysteries are bothering me out of all proportion to the value of what’s been lost. It’s their inexplicable nature. I can’t come up with a reasonable theory. And I do like reasonable theories. They’re so comforting. For now, we’re blaming the house elf. We’ve even started referring to the house elf, on occasion. I heard AppleApple calling for the house elf to point her toward a misplaced something the other day (that item got found).
What I meant to write about was the progress on the porch. The footings are in, and some lumber is now being attached and giant screws are being drilled into brick. These photos were taken this morning. My plan is to take a photo every morning, so we can watch our porch grow. That’s my office there. Can you see it? I almost can.