Stolen Suitcases

Ever had your backpack or suitcase snatched? Your car broken into and bags stolen? Ever wonder what happens to your stuff? Some of it winds up here: Where Stolen Stuff Goes.

And some of it is at my house.

Let me back up. I’ve been the victim of a smash ‘n grab several times. Every time I assumed what was stolen was dropped on the ground a few blocks away when the thieves discovered it contained completely useless (as in little to no street value) items. Preemie clothes? Really? I can’t imagine those being sold on the street (or being of any value to your run of the mill smash n grabber). Swim trunks and a (very likely moldy) towel? Puh-lease. No one wants that crap.

Guess what? Someone does.

And if you’ve had your suitcase stolen in San Francisco your clothing may very well be in a garbage bag in my mother-in-law’s basement headed for the dump right now. I’m not sure what would have happened to it if we weren’t cleaning out the house though. [And why she’s choosing the dump over Goodwill I couldn’t say either.]

I don’t honestly think that my mentally ill (possibly on drugs that require needles) brother-in-law was (is?) an active participant in the swiping of suitcases. I suspect he is more like the guy who ends up with the loot after all the good stuff has been taken out by the original thieves. Not that I think he’s above swiping your suitcase should you leave it on a corner unattended. I just don’t think he has the mental capability to participate in any meaningful way in what the police describe as a “ring” of car thieves. But I could be wrong. Regardless, while he was living here the suitcases came in droves. Some of them are really NICE suitcases. Like, I almost kind of want to keep a few of them.

So what happened to all the stuff that was in them?

The clothes he washed. The washing machine was constantly running. He offered us items he thought we might like. I’m not sure what his ultimate plan for all those clothes was. Or if he even had one. Most of them were women’s clothes (and inevitably got mixed up with my own laundry). He even occasionally brought home baby items found on the street. [He was always bringing home random junk items found on the street in addition to the suitcases. This annoyed MIL more than you can imagine. And is also why we can’t be sure the needles we found are even his versus something he collected perhaps with the thought of resale.]   But it was the suitcases he wanted. He needed them for work.


His ‘job’, in his mind, was recycling. That’s how he made money – by collecting (or stealing) recycling and taking it to the recycling center. In CA glass bottles still get you $0.05 a piece. I think they buy plastic bottles and tin cans as well. And in San Francisco it is ILLEGAL to take other people’s recycling out of their bins even though they don’t want it. That was a new one to me. I looked it up because I thought he was right that it’s legal. He wasn’t. It’s not.

Anyway, bus drivers will not let you on the bus with bags full of recyclables. According to BIL, anyway – and I believe him on that one. You see where this is going now?

Your suitcase was stolen so my BIL could pack it with recyclables, jump on the bus and make $12. Because in his brain, that’s his job. It’s how he makes money.



Did I meet you at BlogHer?

I’m guessing that my appearance at BlogHer2014 will mean that at least a handful of people will stop by here.


I thought I should clarify a few things.

1. Yes, this space is in dire need of a makeover. Despite having bought the domain almost a year ago I have done almost nothing with it. Yet. So, yes, I know it looks bad. That will be remedied. I promise.

B. No, no one reads this blog yet. Until yesterday only about 3 people knew this space existed. But now the address is on my business cards. I have ideas for this space but they are still somewhat amorphous. I’m hoping that BlogHer will help me figure it all out.

III. If you want to read more from me than the handful of posts here then you should check out my other blog Fox In The Henhouse. It’s an infertility blog. The word uterus is used. A LOT. Just warning you.

Conspiracy of Cats

The other day I woke up, got out of bed and promptly stepped barefoot in cat pee.

On my purse.

Which I had not left on the floor.

Yes, it was just as gross and disgusting as you think it was.

I just moved and Geriatric Kitty is not adjusting well. This was not the first rogue cat pee I’ve dealt with since we moved. But now I’m starting to wonder if there’s a bigger conspiracy. I sincerely doubt she was the one that knocked the purse onto the floor. She’s old. That would require too much energy. She just peed on it because it was there.

So which of the other two cats is conspiring against me?

Perhaps I should take this opportunity to introduce them all for any of you who do not read my Infertility Blog (because if you’re not infertile why would you?).

Geriatric Kitty – my 16 year old white cat who I think is always on the verge of death, but in fact just needs to take pills every 12 hours (for now)

The Escape Artist (formerly known as Freckle Cat) – my 4 year old white cat who may, or may not, have the makings of skin cancer on her nose (hence the freckle nickname) but has proven time and again that she deems escaping our house a true art form and is determined to earn an advanced degree in the Escape Arts.

Bitchy Cat – my 4 year old brown tabby/Maine Coon looking cat who loves only me. She’s the only one that is photogenic and she hates everyone else in the house. Hobbies include terrorizing Geriatric Kitty and scratching Right Guy.

Here are some mug shots of the feline suspects. Who did it? Which one needs to start saving her allowance to buy me a new purse?

Bitchy Cat white cats


This blog WILL go somewhere. Eventually. I promise.

[It will also get a makeover at some point in the hopefully near future.]

I was going to start it off by chronicling my efforts to organize my house. Not because I’m some master of organization that aims to become your go-to organization guru but because I thought if I made it public I might actually stick with it. I am Queen of starting, but rarely finishing, projects. Well, maybe not Queen, but it’s definitely something I excel at.

In true Fox fashion, pretty much as soon as that effort started it ended. This time not due me failing at it but because my landlord announced that he wanted to sell the house. So instead of organizing I began mentally packing. I say mentally because my landlord gave us several months lead time so while I aimed to organize back in January it’s now June and I’m only just now actually moving my stuff. So I only got as far as organizing (part of) the wine collection.

The new house (sadly, another rental) is not conducive to wine storage (no AC and no basement) so much of our wine will go into a storage facility that specializes in wine storage. Geez, that makes me sound like an obnoxious wine douche. I like wine. Good wine. Wine that you age 5-20 years before drinking. Obnoxious?  Maybe. Privileged? Surely. But I promise I’m not a dick. Or a douche. I mean, Julia Child was Mistress of fancy French cuisine but she could still appreciate McDonald’s french fries. Although I may not like most wines that come in box form, I will not judge you for drinking them. If you like it, great.

So anyway, that’s one explanation for why this blog has faltered. The other is that I’m still blogging on my other site where I write way too much about my uterus and I had all manner of major things happening on that front this past Spring. This blog is supposed to be about things other than my now-evicted uterus, infertility and all things related to the pursuit of parenthood. Because I am more than that. And I have more to say.