I knew I had hit the sweet spot of summer when I lost a horseshoe. Late July, early August, summer patterns fully established, the woods at it’s lushest with the paths overgrown, the timing was just right. My regular horseshoe opponent lives across the street. He grew up throwing shoes in the projects of Troy and I let him keep the score. I have a hard enough time concentrating on the game.
This time I was playing with Roc, an old friend, and we were talking about old times so I was especially spaced out. I couldn’t find one of my shoes and I was pretty sure it had bounced into the pachasandra so we trampled through the plants for about ten minutes looking for the horseshoe. Peggi suggested I use the metal finder that our former neighbor made, a string of magnets mounted on the underside of an upside down wooden “T.” I dragged the homemade tool through the plants for while while we made small talk and then it dawned on me that the horseshoe might not be in the pachysandra at all. I went back to the pit and found it about a half inch down, wrapped around the pole.
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no blue clay in that pit