One of the oddest things about being a homeowner in a university town is the stuff that gets left in our yard. Our neighborhood has a lot of student housing, and open street parking, so students are always around and leave us all sorts of little offerings. Sure, there’s the expected cigarette butts and empty High Life bottles, the angrily-discarded parking tickets and neat piles of feces of various mammals. But didn’t they need their math homework? That shoe? The calculator, the ice scrapers, the condoms still in their wrappers?
What about the set of 11 keys on a ring with a flash drive and a commemorative brass keychain tag from Cheyenne, which had been thrown up to the house and was only revealed when the snow melted last week?
Then, today, this. Maybe somebody just wanted to prove that it really is so dadblasted cold you could freeze an egg on the sidewalk. In any case, I'm always pleased with small mysteries.