It's been raining all night. The newspapers were full of descriptions of what had been going on this weekend. A lot of the what he had stolen has been found. My son had even passed one of his stashes Saturday night, but as it was boxes of wine he and his friends thought it was somebody planning a party in the area and thought nothing more of it. As I called the police this morning to ask if the PC the newspapers mentioned was mine, I told them the boys had passed the stuff. They wanted to know if they had seen somebody nearby, particularly a car. The thief must have had an accomplice in Volda, somebody to help him move that much that far. He couldn't do that on a stolen bike.
The found lap-top was from the cabincruiser he had stolen. My things are still out there, somewhere, hidden in a hurry in a garden, not even the thief knows where. And I keep thinking about things I need to do, then I remember: no, I need my laptop for that, and then I am right back in that mental loop.