MYSTERY PACKAGE

 Hmmm... I received a second msytery package this past week containing his and hers ball point pens. They happen to be our favorite kind of pens. That kind of knowledge is limited to just a handful of trusted confidants. Hmmm...an inside job.

Clearly, whoever sent these pens knew that Sarah was a girl and I was a boy. That limits the field of suspects to everyone who happens to know  us or those who know our names and are at least passingly familiar with English names of biblical origin and the gender appropriate use of said names. Okay, now we're getting somewhere.

 Now I'm a trained investigator, and as a super-sleuth, I thoroughly analyzed the packaging for any clues it might offer as to who sent us these pens. I'm on the case! I will get to the bottom of this.

 First of all the envelope had been used previously which means that the sender is frugal. It had been formerly used to send a book from which I reasonably deduced that the sender is not illiterate. Hmmm...the package was sent to us from the post office in Idyllwild, CA, and the sender did not use their own writing to address the package which means that they have perpetrated this sort of thing in the past and have learned how to cover their tracks. No doubt we are dealing with a hardened and repeat-giver of anonymous presents.

 Hmmm...

I have my suspicions. I intend to interview my first suspect next Wednesday night. Until then I'm enjoying my pens. Thank you...whoever you are.

MY SHOES UPDATE

As you long-time followers of the BFZ already know I have been without a pair of flip-flops since last September, when my last pair gave up as I was giving a tour to a prospective guest group at work. It was a sad day.This has been the longest I have ever been without a pair of flip-flops since I began documenting the lives and adventures of my footwear here on the BFZ.

Well today a mysterious package arrived in the mail containing a single, perfect pair of flip-flops which I am wearing as I type by the way. Every breeze tickles the minute hairs atop my feet, which have been freed from the onerous and fetid confines of their shoe prisons. I love flip-flops. I hate socks. Let the feet breathe!

The only distressing thing is that the package gave no clues as to who might have sent the sandals- no return address, no little note, nothing... Every fiber of my being is screaming with a singular desire to call the sender of these beautiful flip-flops and thank them. I want to dispatch a "Thank You" letter, but alas the giver was anonymous so whoever you are, consider this an open letter to you in thanks for the flip-flops. I love them.

I am not a size thirteen, I am actually a size 10 1/2 or sometimes an 11, but I prefer to buy my sandals in bigger sizes because the way my feet wear sandals causes them to slip off the sides. So I actually tend to buy sandals in this size. The senders of these flip-flops somehow knew that, which makes me wonder if this was some kind of an inside job. Or maybe they just guessed and got lucky. Hmmm... sounds like one for the Hardy Boys- "The Case of the Mysterious Flip-Flops."

Thank You! (Whoever you are!!! I have my suspicions.)