Two days ago while asking a fellow neighborhood mom about the school's yearbook committee, I also mentioned the marmalade, wondering if I had been correct in assessing that the new neighbor was the one who dropped it off.

No, she explained, the marmalade was actually from a neighbor further down the street. She told me she was terrible with names, but was pretty sure it was from the house that has excellent holiday decorations. She hadn't yet met the new neighbor and knew for sure the marmalade didn't come from that house.

Oh, okay then.

So this means that I'm very late thanking the true gift-giver. Meanwhile, I thought it funny that the new neighbor didn't say anything. The fudge was off the doorstep, so I imagined it was being consumed. Ah well, it is a good "welcome to the neighborhood" treat I thought.

But then this morning, the fudge was back on my doorstep, totally uneaten. I thought of a revolving fruitcake, and smiled, but then pouted a little because my excellent fudge should not be compared to a fruitcake!

Attached to the intact fudge was a note explaining that they weren't the giver of the marmalade, but that they had received some, too. They didn't know which house the marmalade came from.

I was sad to see the fudge. It has been several days now, so I'm not going to eat it. Throwing it away felt bad.

I understand how the neighbor had a dilemma: eat the fudge even though it was intended as a "thank you" for another neighbor, or return the fudge. My intent had been that the fudge was also a welcome-to-the-neighborhood treat, but I understand how the new family was hesitant to take it that way.

Oh, how I wished they had returned the fudge when it was still fresh!

(Meanwhile, the people who actually did give me the marmalade are getting some fig jam in return, along with an apology for the belated nature of the thank-you. I just can't make more fudge...)