While fixing dinner last night, I was trying to catch up on "House", but was distracted by the loud sounds of sirens wailing. I said a prayer for the safety of my husband driving home from work at that same hour. Let him be safe. Then, a bit of guilt, knowing that if my husband is safe, some other family's daddy or mommy might not be safe. I said a prayer for whomever those sirens were for. They went on and on. It must be a terrible fire or accident.
Then - I realized William was in the basement with his buddy playing xBox. The sirens were on their game. My husband arrived home safely, as I hope everyone else did, too.
The above photo is of William's new kitten, Luna. She is scared but warming up nicely. After living eight short weeks in a barn, she and her two siblings were in a "cat room" at the pound, with many big and (if I were a wee kitten) scary cats. It will take awhile to not be scared, but she and William have bonded already.
My first thought, upon hearing, was that I was probably a suspect in a robbery. The police might come and question me at work, and surely, that would not look good. That sure would be embarrassing but also would make for some lively conversations in the break room. I called the victim right away and told her all I knew, hoping she didn't think I did such a thing - which I certainly didn't - but would she think that? There was, however, a more likely suspect - but I'll keep you a bit in suspense.
It all started when a neighbor called and said, "Can you come over? I need you. ...but don't ring the doorbell...the dogs will bark....wait, there's someone at the door....can you come?" Was her home being broken into? Would I find this situation dangerous? Was she having a heart attack? William and I arrived quickly, as she is just doors down from our house. There was a man on the front porch talking on his cell phone. I didn't talk to him, but found out later he was the gardener. I let myself in, being privileged to have the code to her door.
My neighbor appeared gravely ill, and wanted to go to the emergency room. She did not appear to be in immediate danger, so we decided I would drive her. I double checked the front door, and locked the side door as we exited. We told the gardener that we were going to the hospital in town, that the neighbor was sick.
Thankfully, tests showed that the neighbor was okay, though that took several hours. During my wait, she realized that she didn't have her insurance cards. I volunteered to return home to get them, and did so, finding her wallet where she said it was on the desk, and seeing no one there, returned to the hospital. She was being released! I was able to take her home and drop her off just before it was time for me to go to work. I noticed the gardener had returned and was now watering the bushes.
Well, it seems that after having a bite to eat, she went into her bedroom and discovered that much of her jewels were missing and a stereo. And...I had been to her house during the time she was at the hospital. Details helped, however, formulate a scenario. While I was there, I fed her dogs and checked her kitchen doors. One was unlocked, and I dead bolted it. I had come in the front door with a code, but left by the side door, which was unlocked. Surely, I had locked it. I locked it again. So - someone, a "he" (determined because a toilet seat had been left up) had come in the kitchen door and exited the side door - just after using the potty. But at the time, I didn't know that, having only been in the kitchen and office. And the unlocked door? It gave me pause, but I thought perhaps it unlocks when opened from the inside, or I didn't do it right. I brushed aside these thoughts - until I heard what had happened.
Days went by, and finally a detective came by to take prints and question the gardener. Long story short, he has confessed and will likely do time. Sadly, the victim will not recover all her items, some of which were sentimental. And the robber? Unemployed, the victim had tried to do him a favor to earn a little to help support his baby. Sad.
Me? It was an interesting conversation starter this past weekend and I'm relieved that the police didn't show up at the paint desk where I work.
My drain was clogged. Thinking to teach William some real life lessons about maintaining the house (for surely he'd use that more than the definition of a rhombus),I told him to watch me. Maybe I'd let him do some of the work. As I opened the drain, a glob and an overpowering smell came out with the water.
"Awwwwrg," he wrinkled his nose and ran to another room. "If I clean up that throw up smell, I'll throw up and then I'll have two throw-ups to clean up."
I guess the trade of plumbing is out of the question.