I keep a small Cedar Box on a shelf in my bedroom. The Lane Company used to give them away to graduating high-school girls back in my day. It was a way for Lane to advertise their hope-chests. It has held my lifetime collection of nail care tools since 1964.
I happen to have a strange pair of feet. They are almost square in shape with stubby toes and a high instep. The worst part is my toenails don't grow outward and long. They prefer to grow straight up creating what looks like a limestone dome on the top of my toe. I have to file them down to be able to keep wearing shoes. Last night I could no longer tolerate my big toenail rubbing on my shoe so I carried my little box into the living room and asked the Old Salt to file down my nails. I still have a sore ribcage from my recent surgery and bending over to reach my sad looking toes is too painful for words.
After a quick look at the toe in question he announced that my tools were simply not adequate for the job. He began whizzing around the house collecting items from toolboxes, kitchen drawers and some unknown private stash and soon laid them out on the table like a MASH surgeon preparing for a operation. After he doused everything with some antibacterial spray he was ready to go.
Admittedly, he did a great job of curing my nail problem but, I'm not so sure I want to add a staple puller, wire cutters and paring knife to my little cedar box.
Now on a completely unrelated note.
About a week ago we finally bit the bullet and made arrangements to have a new hot water heater and water softener installed in our house. The old ones being original to the place, and hitting the thirty year mark, were causing us to have to schedule shower times around how long the old heater needed to recoup. And, don't even think about running the dishwasher.
Wednesday morning Lowe's showed up to deliver the new equipment and the plumber was pounding away in the basement. Our parking area was littered with cardboard boxes, backing materials and worn-out equipment making it off limits to anyone wanting to actually park a car. Suddenly, I heard the doorbell ring. By the time I got to the front door I was just in time to holler at a lady who was getting into a mini van double parked on the street.
She got out and made her way back through the obstacle course to my door carrying a large wrapped package.
Inside I found this lovely bouquet of flowers.
I was trilled at receiving the gift but totally confused as to who could have sent them. I simply could not think of a single person who would do such a thing. Finally, it dawned on me the answer was on the card sticking on the pick in the middle of the bouquet.
I doubt you will never guess who sent them?
I certainly would never have thought to expect a get well bouquet from