We're having a loaves and fishes experience here. Or Ezekiel has stopped by.
We buy our laying chickens' feed from a local feed store. I took in a recipe for chicken feed, and he grinds it for me to order, when I need it. I have to buy 500 pounds at a time. So I plan carefully, watch my supply, and go visit Eddie at the feed store, as needed.
About three weeks ago, I noticed we were getting low. I called Eddie and ordered chicken feed. At the same time, we were low on pig feed. He also mixes this for me, so I ordered 500 pounds of that, too.
A couple of days later, before I could pick up the feed, I opened a can in my chicken house and found it full. This puzzled me, as I hadn't seen it full before. "Oh, well," I thought. "Middle-aged brain, I must have made a mistake." Because our feed cans were full, I called Eddie and told him I would pick up my chicken feed later, but that I still needed the pig feed.
A week after we picked up the pig feed, I went out to feed the chickens and found a bare minimum of feed in the can. That made sense; it had been about two weeks since I saw that full can. I distinctly remember carrying that can into the chicken house so that I could dump every last smackeral into the chicken feeder.
Yesterday, I picked up that 500 pounds of feed. I brought it home, and commenced my weight-lifting routine. One 50-pound bag to the chicken shed, dump it into a can, rinse and repeat. But, this time, I opened the empty can...and it was half full. What? That can, I am sure, was empty last week. I remember carrying it into the chicken house, right?
You don't suppose there's Someone Really Important visiting somewhere around here...