I unpacked and looked into almost every box - there were those I could be fairly safe not opening, as I had notes taped to the outside of the box stating the contents. But I am not so certain I trust my own notes any more.
Well, I was frustrated beyond words. Beyond noises. Beyond grunting and slow burning. I was miffed...and befuddled.
How do you misplace two punch bowls? Two!?
Yeah, I don't know either, and they're my punch bowls.
I did find two boxes of photos, though. Precious pictures of my boys, and some of my extended family...but photos I had given up on - thinking maybe the ex glommed them, as he did so many other of my personal items, or thinking maybe I just didn't take the pictures I could so clearly remember having seen in years past. You know how that goes, right?
Well, I put those lovely treasures in the house and kept busy with the task in hand. Later, when I went inside to warm up and get a drink, I opened a packet of pictures and quickly glanced through them. Smiles and warm memories.
I was hooked. Pretty soon I had looked through six or seven packets and a large handful of loose photos I thought I had lost forever.
Every once in a while I would tell myself I needed to get back out to the garage and run another search, from top to bottom. Naw, it's cold and getting dark I reasoned. Tomorrow would afford me another chance to look, and I would get to it as soon as K left the house. Start laundry, move things about and search the boxes again - only THIS time opening and unpacking each one until I am absolutley sure the box does not contain a punch bowl.
Anyhow, I went back out into the garage this morning, and once more into the afternoon...and I found one! Hooray!
I will settle for one, right now (I have to). I can fake my way through with the other one, but mark my words. I will be back, and I will find that missing bowl.
You can't hide from me forever, bowlie bowl.
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