Where's Miss Marple when you need her? Here's what I found yesterday when I walked out to pick up the newspaper. This green trash bag leaning against the mailbox post with a tag on it with Bill's name. Not just his first and last name, mind you. Not just "Bill" and his last name, but his complete first, middle and last name. (Incidentally, I just noticed it looks like we need a new mailbox, but that's another story).
Anyway, I thought "what the . . .", but I picked it up and brought it inside. It was obviously something framed. Not too heavy, wood frame. . .a painting perhaps? My powers of deduction almost rival the great Miss Marple herself. But why leave it leaning against the mailbox? Not even on the front porch. Huh?
So I left it in the kitchen for him to find and went out on my errands. Sure enough, when I got back he asked me eagerly, "where did the painting come from?" "I dunno," I said eruditely, "it was just leaning against the mailbox."
"I just can't understand it," he said. "This is a painting of the horses I used to visit when I was a kid. These horses boarded during the summer at the old Black Horse Inn near our house and I'd go down there to see them and pet them and feed them. Where could this possibly have come from?"
The tag hanging from the bag had his name on one side and on the other it read:
Coo Coo, Tex and Butterball: the names of the horses he loved. And these are the very horses in the painting. There is a framer's label on the back, but when he tried to contact them, they were long out of business. So this painting has been somewhere for many, many years until someone decided to give it to Bill. Anonymously. He is really touched, but he wants to solve the mystery. He has one glimmer of an idea of who it might be who would know about him and the horses, but it's a long shot. If he figures it out or if Miss Marple shows up to help, I'll let you know.