Well it happened today! Got a call from my wife while I was at work. Our 16 year old daughter had come home to fine our house had been broken into.
Anger is the first emotion that comes to light. Then fear what might have been taken.
I've been working on a contract in downtown Toronto, and have been taking the train in (it's more relaxing than driving), so I was stranded until quitting time.
When I finally got home, it looked bad, though the thief (we're sure he was alone) took less than we'd worried about. Some jewelry, watches (including my 1920s pocket watch and my Dad's 1953 Rolex - ouch!), and a Bose Wave CD/Radio, among other things. Expensive electronics and cameras and TVs were untouched.
All the way home I tried not to worry about my stamps. Certainly there are more important things in life. They're only pieces of paper, right?
Well when I got downstairs to my studio I was appalled! It doesn't appear he took anything, but he certainly doesn't like stamps.
Boxes of stamps and covers were dumped all over the counter and floor, and my computer (fortunately still here) had been shifted around.
What kind of monster could do this?????



Fortunately the albums themselves were untouched.

And HE was no help. I suggested to the policeman that he dust the dog's tongue for prints. Surely it touched the villains boot!

Man's best friend! Geeeesh!