Suburban Weirdness

As Dave Barry would say, I Am Not Making This Up.

Several mornings a week, I find my newspapers on my front stoop instead of at the end of the yard. I especially appreciate this on rainy mornings. At first I wondered whether the delivery guys had developed particularly good aim, but I rejected that pretty quickly. After that, I just assumed that some kind neighbor threw the papers up there occasionally while walking his or her dog. Wrong.

This morning, I went out to get the papers from the end of the yard when I saw a man in a full-on monk's habit -- brown gown, hood, rope belt -- with what looked like a mop with a plastic bag covering the mop head and a slight limp, walking slowly up the street, taking people's newspapers and placing them on their stoops. We exchanged a cheery "good morning," but I was too flabbergasted to talk to him more. I went inside, and he went on his way. I ran upstairs to wake Mr. T to come see this, to make sure that I wasn't hallucinating or anything. I wasn't.

Mr. T pronounced him a nutjob and wanted to call the police. "No," I said, "he's a helpful nutjob. He's not hurting anyone, just doing a random act of kindness."

Still. Strange.

In the meantime, I'm very close to finishing this Simple Knitted Bodice. I'm almost done with sleeve 2, which leaves me with the neckline and some minimal finishing before I can get it blocked.


I have a case of the blahs, knitting and otherwise. Hopefully I'll snap out of it soon.