There was a wind storm that knocked a 40 foot tree into our deck, taking down parts of the deck and gutters. It also took out the tomato plant we'd nursed through many summer frostings, carefully bringing it in at night, damnit. But that's beside the point. To do the work on our place, this guy, Rusty, borrowed our key.
Then he lost it.
He was sure he'd put it back, but hadn't. Then a couple of weeks after talking with our neighbor Tom about it, this note appeared on our counter along with our key.
(Here you go Rob, (and Mrs. Rob) It's just your key, but it looks like a present.)
It felt a little like a present too. It was way more exciting that just picking up our key from under the mat.
I quit. Sort of.
2 days ago