Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

Ask and you shall receive. I now have two snow shovels.

Yesterday, I asked my upstairs neighbor if he knew where the shovel had gotten to. It had disappeared off the enclosed front porch. I thought that perhaps he'd borrowed it to dig out his girlfriend's place or his parking space at work.

But he told me he had no idea where the shovel went and suspected it had been stolen. Since he was driving to work later in the day, I asked him if he would pick up a new snow shovel while he was out. He said that he would and that, if he couldn't find one, we'd just have to pay a neighborhood kid to shovel the walk.

I had serious doubts about his ability to find a snow shovel right after a huge snow storm. The problem was still very much on my mind, so that when one of my neighbors saw me walking my dog and asked how I was doing, I told him, "Not so good. Somebody stole my shovel."

He sympathized, saying the same thing had happened to him two years ago when he left his shovel outside, and agreed that it might be impossible to find a new shovel right now. But he told me he had a couple extra shovels, and that if we didn't find a shovel, I could borrow one.

Then he thought about it some more and decided he could spare one of his backup shovels for a longer period of time. So he said, "I'll just leave it here by my garage. You get it on the way back from your dog walk and return it at the end of the winter." I thanked him profusely and promised to keep this shovel inside, where it was safe.

When we got back from our walk, sure enough, the shovel was there. We grabbed it and made our way home and put it in my apartment.

Now, I didn't know how lucky my upstairs neighbor would be in finding a new shovel, but figured that when the snow began, I could hop out and do some shoveling, then put the shovel away in my place.

But I awoke this morning to a surprise. When I stepped out on the porch to walk my dog, Una, I saw a shovel, leaning against the wall of the porch. It was not just a shovel; it was the shovel, the one that had been stolen. I could tell right away. It didn't look new, for one thing: it had some scratches on it, as well as some dried salt. Moreover, it was exactly the same shape and color. It had to be the same one, just leaning against the porch, with no explanation.

Now, in previous years the shovel had disappeared for short periods of time and returned. I always thought it was my upstairs neighbor, borrowing it to shovel someplace else. Yet, this time he claimed he hadn't done that, and the shovel reappeared.

I'm not sure quite what the story is here. It could be that my neighbor had accidentally taken the shovel inside temporarily. Or he might have been fibbing about not removing it. It could be somebody in our neighborhood "borrowed" the shovel long enough to clear out their driveway and then returned it. But at least it's back in time for the predicted snow.

Walking Una, I hear lots of dripping water from snow melting off roofs. The sidewalk, which only yesterday was powdered with snow, is now damp and muddy. I don't think I needed to wear the extra layers today; it's fairly warm.

So I don't know if that predicted snow will happen, or whether it will simply turn into rain. But if it does snow, at least the prodigal shovel has returned.

Copyright 2005 by Alyce Wilson

Musings Index

What do you think? Share your thoughts
at Alyce's message board (left button):