Halt! Who Goes There?

So we were robbed the other evening. And I slept right through it. The dirty crooks came back to get the old wrought iron table from the backyard that they had tried to steal a few months ago. The reason they didn't take it then is that they found out that it was fixed to a block of concrete (buried deep in the ground) with a chain, the links of which are a thick as a finger.

The morning of the first attempt, I went to the hardware store and bought a woven steel cable and a special padlock and chained it to the tree. I suppose they had to wait until they could steal a big bolt cutter strong enough to do the job. They did.

The table's been here longer than I have. I feel so violated. I've not been able to sleep. I have dreams of them coming in the house - but at least in my dreams, I have the right and ability to shoot them.

They also stole some tools. They must have been in a hurry because there was so much other stuff nearby but they only took what was nearest the door.

I console myself by thinking that it could have been worse. No one was hurt. It was only a table. Valuable, but a table nonetheless.

But it was OUR table. They have no right.

Be it known that the table is cursed. They may not realize it but they will suffer - directly - for stealing our table. Not to mention the karma they incur.

And may the fleas of a thousand camels infest their armpits as well.