I admit to one superstition

I’ll admit to harboring an irrational belief. But, is it irrational if it always proves out to be true? Once again, today it manifested as more of a law of the universe than a superstition.

The Bible prophesizes a time when the sea shall give up its dead. This is built into a number of mariners’ prayers, which is where I first encountered it. My version is a juncture when the hidey holes cough up the lost objects that have been bedeviling you. That happens shortly after the third object disappears.

Hallelujah! Today was one of those days. Since the third escapee disappeared a week or so ago, I was expecting it.

The first two vanished subsequent to a camping trip I took a few weeks ago. As previously noted, there are those who get through entire weeks in the wild, maintaining the organization of an operating room. I am not among them.

It isn’t like I didn’t try. Fun things to do kept cropping up when I was in the midst of cleaning and stowing each day, leading to a dump in the tent as I ran off to surf my kayak, climb a dune to enjoy a sunset or whatever. At the end of each day, I should’ve reorganized. But, that was time for sitting on the beach, sipping wine and viewing the heavens late into the night.

By the end of the week of beach camping, the floor of my tent resembled a sandbox with ends of “toys” protruding here and there. When it’s time to go home, I’m more than ready to go. I enjoy getting away, but there are too many things near and dear to me here for me to dally. I scooped up the loose items, stuffed them into whatever bags had room and hightailed it for the highway.

By the end of the return journey, everything has amassed into a sodden heap. The day after arrival at home base, I begin to pry that apart and hose out the remnants of the foreign terrain. I’m not fully recovered at that point and lack attention to detail.

Once everything has dried out, I begin to allocate gear to storage. I am more alert at this point and able to detect missing objects. I don’t really mind breaking things in my adventures, but I do hate to lose them. That lacks closure and is a nagging irritant. In this case, there were two items missing.

One was a component of a camping cook set. I could live without it or replace it, but it was still regrettable.

The other was more devastating. During a trip last year, I stopped into a hard core outfitter located at our destination. His stock befitted the magnitude of the type of trip we were on, which is to say, mostly over our heads. However, he was having an end-of-season sale.

One discounted item caught my eye, a featherweight wind shirt of European origin. That description is inadequate because it was configured to serve in paddling, bicycling and about anything else you wanted to do, just short of scaling Mount Everest. It would also compress and stand by for duty in less space required for a deck of cards. And, it was just plain cool. Now, it was also MIA. That hurt.

I tore the place apart looking for it. The effort was futile and I knew it would continue to be until the third item disappeared. I didn’t have to wait long.

The stars came together a couple weeks ago, presenting me with the opportunities to dispose of my car and acquire a new one, both under unusually favorable terms. I had to act fast, which included emptying the vehicle I was getting rid of in the space of less than a half hour. Cognizant that this is where people often err (leaving CDs in the audio unit, sunglasses in the overhead bin, etc.), I set about it deliberately, covering every nook and cranny in order of from stem to stern.

It was not an inexpensive car. Upon purchasing it, the dealer bestowed upon me two kits; one for first aid and the other for road emergencies. These were very nice items and I would want them for the new vehicle. They were deposited in my garage in the heap of stuff coming out of the car. I tend to accumulate.

When the new vehicle arrived at its new home, the first order of business was learning its many functions. It has a few less electronic gadgets than Bill Gates’ office. With that accomplished, to the degree my technical acumen allows, it was time to stock it with my own accoutrements. I sorted through the pile, either discarding or transferring, as warranted.

At the end of this process, one thing was apparent. The road kit was missing. I combed the garage, but to no avail. Drat! However, the good news was that the third item had made its exit. Could recovery be far behind?

Today was the day. I knew that at breakfast. I dug into an opened box of breakfast bars I had salvaged from the camping trip and came upon the missing cook set component. In my heart I believed that everything would be recovered by nightfall.

Today’s to-do list included cleaning out a kayak for an impending trip. In the day hatch, a small compartment, I discovered the wind shirt. I then recalled stowing it there one day on the previous trip in anticipation of a possible pop-up shower.

Likewise, the uncovering of the road kit evoked the memory. When I had been emptying the old car, I heard the house phone ring. I dashed inside with what I had in hand (the kit) and placed it on a book shelf near the phone.

So, equilibrium has returned to my world. At least until the next thing disappears.