Anyone who can tell me what this thing is will win an afternoon digging up a monster rose bush with me and my dog. It’s hanging in the “pantry.” Not the rose bush. This:
It’s driving me crazy. What is it? It must do something. Unless a conceptual artist had it fabricated for a laugh. But, as the lady living here before us was about as conceptual as a washcloth, that is most likely not the case.
Here’s the thing. Here’s how my luck works. I will keep it forever, and never learn what it does, and look like a fool. Or, I will throw it in the recycling and then, a day after the trucks come to take it away, I’ll have that “DOH” moment where I realize “Oh, that’s what it was for. What a perfect, eloquent, ingenious object! Too bad it’s gone forever!” and once again, despair.
Why do I bother? The outcome — I’m-a-fool — is predetermined. Still, curiosity wins out…