There was cinnamon-infused grapevine wreath on my back kitchen door until earlier this week when its hook gave way. The cinnamon smell had dissipated a long time ago, so no big deal. I put it outside for a bit while I was trying to decide what to do with it, and today it occurred to me that I could hang it on the nail above my porch.
A whim like that doesn't drive a person to do something as logical as take out a ladder. No, I figured it would be relatively easy to throw it up onto the nail, ring-toss style.
Throw. CRASH!
Throw. THUNK!
Throw. SMASH!
Throw. Catch! But my hand is bleeding now.
Throw. BOUNCE. CRASH. Hey, it has a boxwood branch stuck in it now.
Throw. Slide. Bonk.
Repeat, repeat, repeat – way more times than I'd like to admit.
Then throw: Success!
I may not have my dignity, but I have a wreath over my porch, dammit.
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