My beautiful wife sends me this missive from her wanderings in Italy:
About the trash can...
There was a massive wind storm while you were gone and the lid was blown down the street, I had to search for it. I don't think a neighbor switched it. Sorry.
It's almost like a william carlos williams poem, except it cuts like a knife! I'm a better person when Krista is here... she would have explained this to me if she had been here.