Of Wreaths and Mysteries

There was no joy in Snowville for Big Doug over the last few days.

It snowed, of course, but only enough to cover lawns, roofs and windshields.

Big Doug's only salvation was the black ice on his driveway. There was just enough for him to spread sand around with a practiced hand. Sadly, this only took a few minutes.

Mother Nature continues to mock Big Doug and his snow shoveling ways.

***

Young Doo knocked upon my door last night.

He was delivering the "Kissmas weef", I purchased from him a few weeks ago. It was part of a fundraising effort for his swimming club.

Doo noticed the existing decorative wreath Mrs. Wonders had already placed on our front door. He wondered what we were going to do with the new wreath, since we already "gotz one."

Mrs. Wonders had already asked me the same thing. Thankfully, she didn't say gotz.

***

I stepped out on the porch and took the new wreath from Doo. I placed it on my head and gave him a very serious look.

"This one," I said, "is going to be my Christmas hat."

***

Doo thought this was very funny, indeed.

He had one remaining wreath to deliver, so he took this out of its bag. Then he positioned the wreath on his head in the same fashion as mine.

As we stood on my porch with our new Christmas hats, Elizabeth happened to drive into the Sack.

As she passed us, she slowed down for a moment and gave us a very suspicious look. This, I believe, is what typically happens when one associates with Doo.

***

Doo wandered off to make his final wreath delivery.

I watched him as skipped through the Sack's centre circle toward his next target. He eventually arrived at Gordon's house and rang the doorbell.

He was still wearing Gordon's new wreath on his head.

***

Several hours later, the irony of my wreath purchase suddenly became clear.

Doo has broken two tree branches in the Sack during the past month. I had just given him fifteen dollars for what is essentially a tree branch.

Little bugger.

***

After much thought, Oscar believes he has solved the mystery of the low-fat, blueberry muffin.

The muffin was found at the bottom of the Wonders' driveway on Sunday morning. Since we live in a cul de sac, cut off from the rest of society, such events bring us great amusement.

Firstly, Oscar says the muffin was placed on the wrong driveway. He thinks it was really meant to be left on his driveway.

"A woman placed it there," he opined, "and let her emotions get in the way of her concentration."

***

Secondly, he thinks the muffin is really a metaphor, rather than a simple baked item.

"It's a symbolic message." he said confidently.

"And what's the message?" I asked.

"Someone in the Sack," he said with pride, "thinks I'm a stud muffin."

***

It has started to snow again in the old town. Again, the forecast is only calling for a few centimetres. It's nothing for Big Doug to get excited about.

Mrs. Wonders is decorating our new wreath. We still don't know where we're going to put it.

I'm going to brew some coffee and then join her. We might even have a little snack with our coffee.

We might even have some muffins.

***