Scavenger Hunt

In my previous post I mentioned that I’ve taken to writing short little poems for Kate in our time apart — here’s an example of one such (set of) poem(s), structured as a scavenger hunt with little gifts accompanying each subsequent poem-riddle-clue (e.g. some ILNP flakies and chromes, some UD lipsticks and glosses, some Belgian chocolates, etc.). I initially got the idea from the excellent Ailsa, who was also instrumental in wrapping and placing all the presents while I was away. I’m posting this here because in trying to look for ideas re: riddles corresponding to where to hide things, I came up pretty blank (with the exception of the mirror one which I modified from here), so maybe these will inspire someone else to do something similar (unfortunately, many involve inside jokes, though a few are generic. That last link has more ideas if you happen to have e.g. a birdcage, a blackboard, a bus terminal, etc. lying around).

So anyway, here were the clues (from a document I provided for Ailsa — the actual clues were written on cardstock with little drawings). I think Kate liked it!

TWELVE PRESENTS IN TOTAL
FIRST RIDDLE-POEM TO TAPE TO FRONT DOOR

Why hello my darling, we’ve made you a puzzle,
A dozen gifts total, small this’s and that’s.
It will be a while before we can nuzzle,
But know that I love you, the best of all cats.

With each gift a riddle, some might lead astray,
Each points to the next one, they aren’t that hard
Together I hope that they sadness allay,
So think on these words and turn over this card!

BY THE TEA IN THE KITCHEN (IN THE SHELVES UNDER THE MICROWAVE) (THIS RIDDLE GOES ON THE BACK OF THE CARD, BUT YOU HIDE THE FIRST PRESENT BY THE TEA WITH RIDDLE NUMBER 2 TAPED TO IT))

A tasty hot beverage to ward off the chill,
A soothing sensation when one’s throat is ill,
In flavors of pumpkin and autumn and mint,
I hope that this isn’t too easy a hint!

ABOVE THE BATHROOM MIRROR (BELOW THE LIGHT, SHOULD BE EASY TO HIDE)

All glassy and silvered,
What a beautiful face,
If you look over yourself,
You will find this place.

BY BOARD GAMES IN KITCHEN UP HIGH

Saving humanity is in a day’s play,
Railway planning I hear does well pay,
If monsters and witches take overly long,
Some colorful pictures will never go wrong.

IN POCKET OF KATE’S PURPLE COAT (IN CLOSET BY DOOR)

A place for cold hands or eyedrops or wallet,
The thing it’s a part of would lack a decollete,
A large purple pouch might be absent elsewhere,
By putting this on you’re as warm as a bear!

IN THE BIG BAG OF QUARTER ROLLS FOR LAUNDRY IN THE CUPBOARD TO THE LEFT OF THE FRIDGE

A dollar is spent for water or air,
Of varying temperatures, but that’s only fair,
Small metal tubes work well for leg raises,
Asking for these often shocks and amazes.

IN THE PUP’S DOG BED IN THE BEDROOM CLOSET

A bald skinny man is frequently cold,
But he’s not [REDACTED] for he’s far too old,
A boy has a name but to say it is cheating,
Is he all tucked in? Is he overheating?

LEANING BY DISH SOAP BY TRASH CAN IN KITCHEN (UNDERNEATH DRYING RACK)

Messes are made,
And messes are cleaned,
By viscous green liquid,
A gift has been leaned.

IN THE CLOSET BY THE FRONT DOOR, TOP SHELF, BEHIND THE EXTRA CO/SMOKE ALARMS

A very shrill screeching when we try to cook,
The extra devices we hid in a nook,
For company close they have scarves and hats,
It’s quite dark in here, I hope there aren’t bats.

BEHIND THE MULTIVITAMIN (AND OTHER SUPPLEMENT) PILL BOTTLES IN THE BATHROOM ABOVE THE TOILET

These probably help, but that’s far from known,
Their benefits are quite often overblown,
A placebo, however, can be helpful too,
Just swallow with water, and try not to chew.

BEHIND THE WINES IN THE KITCHEN

Sometimes these have bubbles but often they’re flat,
Now and again they come in a cat,
Pinks, reds and whites, blegh this one is yucky,
Where’s my blackstone, that one is less sucky.

UNDER THE BED

Many a spoon is found here that’s true,
And sometimes a fork, in mornings on cue,
But not made of metal, though hard things might be,
Look under the structure made out of a tree!

BY THE BAGS OF CREATINE IN THE KITCHEN ON THE SHELF NEAR THE CEILING ABOVE THE TRASHCAN

A product of G-ly and Ar-g am I,
In lending energy fatigue you deny,
It’s frugal to buy me in large total number,
Don’t take me at night or poor you might slumber.

ENDING POEM (ON THE VERY LAST PRESENT — I.E BEHIND THE BAGS OF CREATINE)

This is the last gift, I’m sorry to say,
They had to end sometime, and not overwhelm,
I hope that my clues were all clear as day,
Though night had long fallen on your shingled realm,

I’ll talk to you soon, my dearest of Kates,
And count down the days until our next meeting,
Our lives will go on, we’ll pick up large weights,
The time we’re apart will be largely fleeting.

(Header Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons)

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