There’s a moose loose


I’ve written before how much I hate losing things.  I find it really unsettling when something isn’t where I expected it to be.




My hero drinks peppermint tea made from a teabag in his mug and a small moose perched on the rim provides a place for the used and squeezed out tea bag.  But as of yesterday, the moose has gone missing.

Even though this isn’t something of huge consequence, isn’t something we couldn’t live without or even something I’ve lost myself, I am finding it very difficult to stop the ongoing search and admit “it’ll turn up somewhere eventually”. 

Can I settle to do anything this morning?

Silly, isn’t it?

Last of the season

Fiddling about