Nearly a spiritual experience. I think it should be recognized as a Discordian holiday.
I put some things out that made me sad. One, my little personal-sized refrigerator. Two, John's shopvac. It's stupid, but after John's death, everything he had seems precious, despite the fact that most of what he had was held together with duct tape and bad temper. The shopvac was entirely unusable.
Somehow, someone decided they needed it, and took it home with them. Ultimately, of the half-dozen things I put out there, only the broken hot water heater and a chair that would collapse under a five-year-old's weight were left.
Through the magic of a suddenly benevolent universe, an hour before I went to spend $150 on a new soda fridge, my sister's boyfriend called me and asked if I still had my broken-down car in the front driveway. I said of course I did, did he want it?
He said yes, how much did I want for it?
"You can have it--but I guess I could use $100 to buy a new personal fridge."
"You can have mine, I don't use it."
So, broken car in the driveway gone, fridge in the living room again.
It was strangely magical, because the fridge in the front yard went away, too. Like fridge fairies.