Disappearing plants

The doorbell rang. Grumbling, I hauled my butt upstairs to find some fellow with a landscaping truck.

"I--"
"I'm not the one who makes decisions around here," I cut him off. We get a lot of offers to clean gutters/fix the roof/rake leaves/carpet clean our all wood floors/plant corn or whatever. I've learned to keep it short.
"No, no, I'm from Meadows Farms and I'm here to drop off the vinca."
"Uh...."
"Where should I put it? Also, your cat is escaping."

I catch the cat, puzzled. I'm well aware that we're trying to replace the dead grass but I hadn't heard anything about a delivery. Also...vinca? Weren't we getting ivy? "Um. Okay." Squiggling cat in hand, I direct him to put it under the tree out front.

I go downstairs. The doorbell rings several minutes later. I haul my butt upstairs, grumbling more. There are several potted plants that don't look at all like vinca to me (but what do I know?) along with several bags of dirt piled dead center in the middle of the yard. I scoop up the cat and hold her as a precautionary measure.

"Okay," he tells me. "The vinca dries out quickly in this wind so you should water it twice a day until it is planted."
Fine, fine, I nod, as the cat tries to work her way free. Only later do I notice he didn't have me sign anything for it or leave a receipt.

My uncle came home about forty-five minutes later. I told him about watering the vinca.
"What vinca?"
"The vinca in the middle of the yard?"
"Where? What? They weren't supposed to deliver that today."

I look out the window. Nothing.

The pile of bags, shrubbery, and (supposed) vinca were gone.

I swear I didn't hallucinate it.