Blustery Days...and Nights

There are nights that Hubs is late coming home due to one of two things:  overtime at the job or making fuel (some of you may remember that Hubs produces bio-diesel for our cars- he has a fueling station set up in the two car garage behind the house where his mother lived.).  For the most part, when this happens, I don’t mind having the extra ‘alone’ time to read, write or just watch television without someone asking me questions like, “What did he say?”  “Why did she do that?”  But last night was different.  

I woke up yesterday morning with a case of hay fever.  I do suffer with hay fever, usually, twice a year- once in the fall and once in spring.  Most likely, this bout is due to being in the attic getting down the Christmas boxes for the un-decorating process which has yet to commence.  Hay fever is not totally debilitating like the flu, but it does take the wind out of my sails so, the day was slow.  I even took an afternoon nap which is highly unusual for me.  Hubs called to say that he was going to make some fuel after work which was ok with me because, not feeling 100%, I would be able to watch television in bed and relax or drift off to sleep.  I flipped through the channels and ran across a Mel Gibson movie called Edge of Darkness—one of those murder mystery type movies with corruption and conspiracy involved.  One of those movies that I should NOT be watching while all alone with only a nine pound doggie for protection.  During the tense scenes, I flipped the channel, waited for a minute or two, and flipped back to continue watching (I am not one to sit through tense movie moments).  All in all, it was turning out to be a nice, relaxing evening.  Until I heard the noise.  And the mental conversation ensued.

“Oh, there’s Hubs already.”  Wait.  Wait.  Wait.  There was the noise again.  “Why is he having so much trouble with his key?”  Wait. Wait.  Wait.  Wait.  That was one wait too many because I, once again, became engrossed in the movie until-- there it was again.  Mute the sound.  “HOLY CRAP!  What’s he doing at the BACK DOOR?!  He wouldn’t be at the back door! Dial him up. CRAP!  Stupid voice mail lady.  His phone is dead.  Listen carefully.”  Listening….carefully…THERE IT IS AGAIN!  “Peek around the corner.”  Peeking…around…the… corner…wump, wump, wump—my heart is pounding in my ears as I walk in to the dining area and, suddenly, the noise stops.  “Oh S***!  He saw me and stopped trying to get in the door!”  I went back into the bedroom, backwards, at lightning speed.  “Where are all those damn flashlights Hubs bought last month!?  What do I do?  Cry?  NO! NO! NO!  There’s no time for that!  THINK! 911?  NO, if it’s nothing you’ll feel stupid.  I don’t know!  Keep those Criminal Minds episodes out of your thought process (Criminal Minds thoughts suppressed immediately).  Where are all those F***ING FLASHLIGHTS?!?!’  Waiting.  Waiting.  Waiting.  The only sound now is the wump, wump, wump of my heart in my ears.  I sneak out into the dining area, secure my key chain which is equipped with one of those darn flashlights and let down the shades on the French doors.  “Ok.  Deep breaths.”  Back to bed.  Television volume just loud enough to barely hear it.  Mel Gibson movie OFF.  Everybody Loves Raymond ON.  WAIT.  Mute television.  “S***!  There it is again!  Maybe it’s that possum that Tucker and one of the dogs next door go in and out of the house 500 times a night to bark at.  NO, that’s just stupid.  A possum isn’t going to try and come in the house via the back door.  Somebody is trying to get in the back door! S***!  S***! S***!”  Tucker is all set to go out there and I’m telling him, “NO!  You are NOT going out there!” in a loud whisper.  I dial up Hubs again thinking that his cell has miraculously charged itself.  Stupid ass voice mail lady again.  I curse Hubs, again.  “I can’t believe that ASS is leaving me here to deal with an intruder all by myself!”  Quiet again.  I venture into the dining area , steal into the kitchen and turn off the light over the kitchen window (which is on the same wall as the back door) and peer out.  The side and back neighbors have spotlights on and I see nothing in the yard.  As I am walking back to the bedroom- THERE’S THE NOISE AGAIN!  I decide that I have to see what’s out there ("And you call the people in those movies stupid when they just have to see what made the noise.").  I walk ever so slowly, step by step to the door.  I reach out my right hand and touch the edge of the shade and carefully, slowly peel the shade back just enough to peer out and THERE’S THE NOISE!  Followed by IMMEDIATE relief and some nervous but relieved laughter.  

During the summer months, Hubs ordered one of those portable screen doors that fasten down the middle with magnets.  It’s great for keeping the summer bugs from coming into the house on days I leave the door open so Tucker can come and go as he pleases.   However, it gets in the way when I want to sneak the door open and snap a picture of the birds at the birdbath or feeders.   A few days ago, I unlatched the top of the right panel so it wouldn’t be in my way.  Last night, the wind was quite blustery and the noise was that f***ing loosened panel hitting the French door.  And, had I not been scared to death, I probably would have felt quite stupid. 

Hubs arrives home not more than 30 minutes later.  

“Hey Sweetie!”  he coos. 

I glare.     

“What’s wrong with you?” he stupidly asks.   

“What’s wrong with ME?! What’s wrong with YOU?! Why weren’t you checking in with me?!  Someone was trying to break into the back door tonight!”  I sort of yelled.

So, what have we learned from all of this?

1.       Hubs should NEVER let his cell die.

2.       Hubs should check in with me when he’s going to be late.

3.       I should never be left alone with only my mind with which to converse.

4.       That screen should come down and only be put up on days when the wind is not present.

5.       I should never, ever again watch any mystery/crime/psychological thriller type movie/television program.