Crazy Crap Item #233: The part where I go dumpster diving

This morning, I was enjoying my habitual repast of cinnamon toast and strawberries and reading about an obscure 17th-century poetess, when the phone rang. It was my lovely neighbor Ruth.

"I thought you should know that there's a full-size stuffed lion in the alley behind the Walters' house. They're throwing out a bunch of stuff."

"I'm on it."

Mere minutes later, and I am in possession of said lion -- a glorious, free-standing example of toy-making at its finest. As I stroll through my backyard with this lion -- I think I'll call him Frazier -- hoisted up on my shoulder, I hear Kevin and Sam call to me from their backyard, some four or so houses down. They wave a small toy monkey that they have rescued from the selfsame pile. I suggest our next block party should be jungle-themed.

Now, with Frazier safely stowed in my basement for whatever future adventures may await him on Norwood, I realize that I could easily go to bed now at 10:30 in the morning, as my day has already been as fulfilling as it could possibly be.