Tag Archives: mystery

CSI: Frosty

Those of you who follow me on Twitter or Facebook know that I have been dealing with a personal trauma this week.

I came home to find my outdoor snowman had been tipped over and decapitated. In lieu of flowers, please send cash or Vodka.

(Sorry-I don’t know how to take screen shots of Tweets.)

After leaving for work at 6am and spending four hours that afternoon with tech support in an effort to make my work computer functional, this is what I came home to.


Ahh! The horror!

Frosty was flat on his back, his little body twisted and torn after being displaced from his holiday perch on my front porch ledge. I immediately got out of my truck, and despite the fact that it was raining and “Wizard of Oz” windy, I attempted a rescue.


As you can see, that did not go well.

After several more feeble attempts in the wind and the rain to put his head and his smile back on, I realized that the only holiday spirit I was feeling at that moment was the quote from A Christmas Story that had popped into my head:

“I have since heard of people under extreme duress speaking in strange tongues. I became conscious that a steady torrent of obscenities and swearing of all kinds was pouring out of me as I screamed.”

At that point, I took him in the house and carefully put him in the basement, and placed a call to my mom—the official decorator and seasonal surgeon—to set up a date for repair.

In the meantime, I grew suspicious of the circumstances surrounding this incident. While the 40 mph winds and rain would seem like the obvious reason, the whole fountain issue this past summer left me hesitant to trust the obvious.

My first thought was that crazy drunk neighbor lady was overdoing it on the holiday “spirits” again. Although she has some decorations on her house, the bright and “festive” red light she put in her front porch lamp led me to believe the feisty old broad might be supplementing her cocktail fund in a slightly shady way.

But as much as I want to blame her, kicking over my snowman would have required her to go out in the rain, prompting this scenario:


Remember? They melt.

So then I considered the squirrels and other small woodland creatures that might have a beef against an illuminated snowman placed in my yard to project an image opposite of the slight Grinchiness that may be felt inside.

But although pushy and mighty with their demands for better seed and a heated waiting area surrounding the pond-turned-squirrel-skating rink, I don’t think they have anything against Frosty.

frozen pond2

You should see them drive the little Zamboni.

It was also suggested that Frosty has simply partied a bit too hard (possibly with crazy drunk neighbor lady?) and found himself passed out drunk in the front yard, not unlike a couple boyfriends I had in college. However,  I could detect no trace of alcohol on him.

Plus, you know, his mouth fell off.

So I suppose I’m left to believe that it was in fact the wind that toppled Frosty off the ledge and not tipsy neighbors, speed skating squirrels or a case of him trying to beat the blues with some brewskis.

He’s set to undergo surgery this week, and barring warm weather or high winds, a compete and speedy recovery is predicted. In lieu of flowers, he has requested cash or Vodka, both of which can be sent directly to my house.

Well, he didn’t say that—you know, his mouth fell off—but I’m sure that’s what he would want. After all, why do you think he’s such a jolly happy soul?

Merry mystery solved.

Like the blog? Buy the book.

P.S. Look for a post next week showing exactly what Round One of the book money purchased for the animals at the Humane Society of West Michigan. (Sneak peek!) I don’t just donate money, but prefer to donate goods, so you can see just where your money will go—directly to the animals. Hopefully the first shopping spree of many!

CSI: Pond/Fountain thing

For the past couple of weeks I have been enjoying the soothing sounds of a gentle waterfall. No, I have not neglected to fix my runny toilet once again, but rather I speak of the fountain/pond in my backyard oasis.

We—and by “we” I mean my mom—got it running once again with the help of a new pump and some elbow grease, and the gentle tinkling of the streaming water has been providing a relaxing background as I swat off the bugs of summer.

Well, that went down the crapper.


The damn things sprung a leak—again—and has since emptied itself out to reveal a new spot for annoying white fuzzies and tree debris to congregate. I’m not quite sure why it happened, but I would like to blame something other than the fact that it simply sprung a leak.

Enter CSI: Pond/Fountain thing and the short list of suspects.

The Diva Chipmunk

When I left for work the other morning, there was a chipmunk frolicking near the crime scene. Due to my excitement at getting to work at 6:30 a.m., I failed to inform him that I was not running a private spa for small woodland creatures. It’s possible that if he chose to swim laps with unpedicured nails, the liner of said pond could have been torn.

However, I feel the small woodland creatures enjoyed the pond as much as I did and doubt this was an impulsive act to display disappointment in my failure to supply little fuzzy robes, acorn appetizers and complimentary slippers. I have eliminated all diva chipmunks as suspects.

The Masked Menace

While I have a soft spot for small woodland creatures, I have no such feelings towards large bastard raccoons that destroy my birdfeeder and refuse to fear me.


The first time I looked out my window and saw this thing climbing up the stairs, I thought it was a bear. (Never mind the fact that we don’t really have bears in my area.) This beast is huge, and when I ran out flailing my arms and making crazy sounds, it simply moved one step lower and looked positively bored. I swear I heard it sigh before slowly retreating, only to return the second I went back into the house.

So while I would love to nail this sucker to the wall for the crime in question, considering there is no food involved, I don’t think it would have the motivation—other than to piss me off.

Ernie the Gnome

With Ernie, jealousy could most certainly be motive. Uncle June gets a fair amount of mini-face time on the blog, whereas Ernie only appears in warm-weather situations.


It’s very possible that these feelings of inferiority could have manifested themselves into a vindictive act of vandalism, but alas, he would have been destroying his own little humble abode. I feel he must be eliminated from the suspect list as well—along with the turtle.

Long Shots

I thought about blaming the neighbor kids, seeing as they have been wandering around the neighborhood with their improvised nunchucks and potent pellet guns. But they haven’t really ventured into my yard since I moved in, at which point in time the  little mouth breathers rode their bikes across my front lawn and dug holes in my backyard because the old owners apparently allowed that.

I calmly told them that I didn’t allow that behavior and was not above installing an invisible electric fence to prevent a repeat occurrence. I then added that both Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy had died tragic deaths as a result of their reckless excavation and bicycle operation through my yard.

With that said, they now call me “Miss Abby” and only come over when selling overpriced products for various Scout troops and cults they belong to.

So they’ve also been eliminated as suspects, leaving me right back where I started from—an empty pond and empty leads. But this investigation has not been for naught, as I’m thinking the neighbor kids might be included as possible allies in the war against the raccoon.


Let’s put those nunchucks and pellet guns to good use, shall we?

*No animals were harmed in the writing of this post, nor will they be harmed in the future. I can’t speak for any psychological damage that may have resulted from finding out the Tooth Fairy is not real.