Long story! Our club had a pizza box project. Each person was to make a square for each other person in the chain. Each one had their directions, requests, fabric in a pizza box. I was the second one to get Margaret's box. On the next Sunday evening, I wanted to get started, and couldn't find the box. After hours of searching, I surmised that it had been carried to recycling, as the last place I had seen it was on my kitchen table, and we had gone to recycling on Saturday, and I remembered seeing other recycling on the table as it was being collected to go out the door. I talked to my son, the town supervisor, and asked him if we could go to the town hall and look in the dumpster there before the Veolia people picked it up on Monday. He said, "Not tonight. I'm watching the super bowl." Next morning we went to the town hall and the dumpster was empty. So I went to the Veolia place in Medford, 15 miles away, and they said they didn't pick up at our town hall. Try Marshfield: 25 miles away in the other direction. (Good thing we have a Prius.) This man was at least sympathetic, He took my name and stuff and said my chances of finding it were slim to none.
After a day or so, I had to tell the lady that I had lost her box, and she told me where to buy more fabric for her squares. The lady who had already made a square offered to make another. Cost me more than $50. So everything is cool.
A few weeks later, I was cleaning, and happened to look behind a small dresser, and there it was. I had looked there on that fateful Sunday evening, but it was dark back there, and I didn't see it then. There was a "pile" of other projects on top of this dresser, and the pizza box had slid off to the back and was standing on end back there.
Well, Margaret paid me $30 for the extra fabric I now had, and she made her quilt bigger.