Current mood: curious
So, this past weekend I go white water rafting in West Virginia, which was pretty kick ass - even though you are sore after and scared during it. It is still kick ass. So it rained the last night we were there, and we are camping so it is MUDDY. The tent is muddy, the cooler, everything, so hell with it, we put the tent in a garbage bag and drag it all home. I set the tent up on my back deck all nice and pretty and hose it off to let it dry. So I get home from work yesterday to put the tent away.. and no tent.
The cooler is there, the tent rain flap is there, the string I used to tie the tent to the deck is there, cause it was a little breezy. No tent. I walk all over the backyard confused and ... well confused. Where does a tent go? Who steals a tent? I'm calling people, "have you seen my tent?"
Until... I walk out the front door and see, my tent, way the hell over in my neighbors front yard, facing me, as if to taunt me.
HOW in all blazes of glory did my tent go from being tied up on my back porch, all the way around the house, around the fence, around my neighbors car, across his driveway to plant itself facing me all nice and pretty? And what the hell did it do to get the poles all scratched to hell? Did it roll over the roof? I called my neighbor to tell him my tent came over to play and he said I had the wrong number, I assured him that I did not and my tent really was in his yard.
Some serious supernatural tent-scapades going on here... I suspect the cat.