Gotta Try Something

I have come to a conclusion regarding the matter of my whiskey. It is there when I check on it just before bed. It is gone when I check on it first thing in the morning. It seems a simple enough conclusion to reach; the whiskey disappears while I'm asleep, under cover of darkness, at night. The question that comes with that conclusion, to my mind at least, revolves around why. Why then? Is it the cover of darkness? Is it my lack of presence? Is it the night?

While I cannot remove the night, I can change my presence from 'not there' to 'there'. That may also remove the cover of darkness if I'm not careful. When troubleshooting a problem, its best to change as few of the elements as possible before retrying. That way you can be more confident about which change resolved the problem. While it may seem more logical to have the lights on in the shed overnight, I think my presence will be a bigger change. It eliminates more possibilities than just leaving the lights on all night.

I cleared a little space near the chest where I've been storing the whiskey. Not directly in front of it or on top of it or anything like that. Just nearby. Hopefully close enough where I'll be able to keep an eye on what goes on without being too obvious. Its been warm out so it should be a comfortable enough night. I've got a pillow. I've got a few blankets. I've got a book. I've got a reading light. Most importantly, I've got whiskey.

One way or another, this should be a fun night.

I Suppose That's Something

The whiskey supply has been restored. I set a different 'trap' for myself involving string around the bottles and multiple pieces of wood set up to form the letter 'X' across the tops of the bottles. It's still not terribly complicated but it should be enough to reflect more information about the information pinching my booze. That is why I have hurried to the shed this morning. I'm so curious.

I'm almost happy to see the whiskey is gone. Clearly this is a sign I've gone completely mad. That should not be a good thing. The string sits in the bottom of the wooden box, placed dead in the center and tried very delicately into a rose. At least something that looks enough like a rose for me to think that it looks like a rose. That is not a skill I'm aware that I have which would seem to mean that this skill is locked away in my brain and emerges only when my conscious mind leaves me. Or I'm being possessed. Or I didn't do it.

The wood has been carefully rearranged so that it spells out 'HI TY'. As my name is not 'TY' I'm guessing this is short for 'thank you'.

Well, at least whomever it is taking my whiskey is trying to be polite.