Something Borrowed

screwdriverAll I wanted was a screwdriver. A simple everyday tool. But do you think I could find one?

I checked the junk drawer in the kitchen. I rummaged through the tool box in the car. I scoured the shelves in the shed. No luck in any of those places.

The thing is, I know for a fact that I own at least three sets of screwdrivers.

It is like that around here. Whenever I am looking for something, I can’t find it but when I am not looking for it, I find two, sometimes three of them.

We have too much stuff and the root cause of that is too much house.

At one time, not long ago, we had three houses.. We had our old house, the one we were trying to sell. We had the new house, the one where we lived and we had a condo in the city where I lived during the work week.

After I retired, we consolidated. We sold the condo then sold the old house and piled all that stuff into our new house.  The piles remain.  We have piles in the closets, piles in the basement, piles in the garage and piles in the shed. It makes it hard to find anything.

But disorganization doesn’t account for all that is happening around here. You see, not only are we missing things we know we have but we are finding things we know we do not have.

Not long ago, I found a rototiller in my shed that I know is not mine. For one thing, we don’t have a garden. For another, we never had one. Not only that but the shed was empty when we moved in – so it was not left to us by the previous owner.

I could only draw one conclusion. Not only was someone stealing things from our shed – but they were stashing things in there as well.

So I set up a critter-cam, a remote camera triggered by a motion detector, to monitor the comings and goings in my shed.

Within the week, the mystery was solved. The tape revealed a car pulling into our driveway when we were not at home. A man got out and opened his trunk. He removed an object and lugged it into the shed. He then lugged something else out of the shed, put it in his trunk and drove away.

I recognized the car and the man as well. So I called him up; my old buddy Stan.

“Are you breaking into my shed?” I asked

“Why do you ask?”

“So you admit it.”

“I never broke into your shed.”

“Then how did you get in? I lock the door.”

“I borrowed your spare garage door opener.”

(So that’s where it went.)

“What’s the problem,” he asked, “you have three of almost everything?”

“But I don’t have what I need when I need it because you keep taking it.”

“Hey, I return everything I borrow.”

“Like what?”

“I returned your rototiller.”

“I don’t own a rototiller.”

“Then who does?” he asked, somewhat perplexed.

“I dunno, who else do you borrow from?”

“I’ll have to give that some thought.”

I was not happy with Stan and I told him so. But Stan is Stan. He will never change no matter how much he apologizes and promises to do better. We spoke about that until our words died away.

“By the way,” he said reviving the conversation, “you owe me fifty-five dollars.”

“What for?” I asked.

“I replaced your rototiller’s head gasket.”

“But I don’t own a rototiller.”

“You do now.”

Author: Almost Iowa

27 thoughts on “Something Borrowed”

  1. Great! I once bought an old dairy farm in Andover, MA. The farmer didn’t want to sell, but his wife and her mother were tired of the cold and wanted to move to Florida. he was outvoted.
    The neighboring five acres he had given to his daughter and her husband. In the summers, the old farmer would visit his daughter for a few months. One day I looked out the window and saw him walking out of the barn with a shovel. He had left a lot of old tools in the barn (no need for them in Florida) and whenever he needed something he just went to the barn and got it. Didn’t have the heart to tell him the shovel was now mine.

  2. Much the same situation with my in-laws…they recently “downsized” from their motor home and their winter home in Texas to just the summer place here in Colorado. They have at least three of EVERYTHING. Stan would have a heyday…

  3. Once again, a surprise ending that nails it. That is, if you have a hammer.

    My husband spent a long time yesterday searching for his sunglasses. He eventually found them. But I’m thinking now that Stan may have been in our neighborhood…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s