Today's story falls into a category that I like to call "Things I Shouldn't Tell On Myself."
Yet, here we are.
A few weeks ago, I found an empty snail shell in the woods. I'm a gatherer, a person who collects things from nature. Pretty rocks, seashells and leaves are commonly examined and sometimes come home with me. So it wasn't at all odd that this snail shell ended up in my pocket.
When I came home, I dropped the shell on the kitchen table so that I could clean it before placing it on the shelf.
The next day, I realized it was gone. It occurred to me that it may have been thrown away with some junk mail that I had sorted at the table. After all, Scout isn't allowed on the table so it's unlikely he absconded with it.
And then I forgot all about it.
Yesterday, I was putting away some things that from the store. When I moved a grocery sack, something dropped onto my mid century kitchen dinette table and there was the shell - complete with a real life snail inside.
Meet Sheldon the Snail.
It seems he has been living on my kitchen table all this time, likely hiding in the fruit bowl and dodging me.
So I helped Sheldon up onto a piece of cardboard and carried him to a wooded area similar to the place where I found him. And now I can't disinfect the table enough.
I often say you don't know what goes on behind closed doors in other people's homes. Turns out, sometimes you don't know what's going on in your own home!!
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