Saturday Slightly Tired

Busy day ahead.  Tired body. 

I'm tired because I did not get a very good night's sleep, and that comes after the night before when I didn't fall asleep until after midnight.

Regardless of what time sleep comes, get-up time is almost always the same:  4:30. 

Ironically during the four nights that Bill was gone to Louisiana, I slept pretty well.  Have learned a few tricks of staying home alone at night, protected by one mighty mini Aussie and two of the friendliest Border Collies around.  

I'm not giving away my secrets because if the bogey man is reading my blog, he might get some ideas, and then I'd turn into a fraidy cat again. 

I can remember when we lived over on Great Northern Road and when Bill was gone or even when he was home, we kept a metal baseball bat under the bed. 

I'm betting that if a group of former students who decided to come calling and actually came into our house while we were all "sleeping?" knew that we had a baseball bat, they would have left the cute post-it notes on the porch picnic table, not on our refrigerator, television screen and kitchen counter. 

Lucky for them that night, WE knew who THEY were, so we just played dead in bed, and they finally went away, came back, went away again. 

The baseball bat remained idle under the bed that night, but Mrs. Love's mean face came out in full force the next Monday in a class where some of the invaders sat, cringing in their chairs once the tirade about home invasions of teachers began. 

Back to the present.  

I survived four nights all alone in our house this week, and not once did I lock myself out of the house like I did one night in March when Bill was gone for a few days.  

We have about 24 locks (well, maybe 10) in this house, and each night I saw to it that every single one of them earned their salary during that particular stretch of staying home alone at night. 

Only problem was, one night the dogs started barking in the garage just as I'd crawled into bed, so I went out to shut them up and shut the door behind me------the door open made a good exit, but when I closed it (locked), I was instantly closed off from the rest of my house. 

Inside was Foster.  Inside was my cell phone.  Inside were all my street clothes.  It was about 9:30 p.m.  

Long night ahead, I thought.  Over at my sisters' were visiting family members who could come to rescue me.  Or, I could conceivably sleep in my sisters' trailer, but what was little Foster gonna do when Mom never came back into the house?

Problems deserve solutions.  After testing all the doors in hopes that maybe they weren't completely locked, I unlocked the door to the shop, where Festus, the cat, lives at night. I grabbed a screwdriver and tried to jimmy the back door open.  

No luck.

Then, I thought about windows. Maybe there's a window unlocked.  

Thank you, Annie, for opening that window in the living room last time you were home cuz you thought it was so hot in there at the time. Maybe you did not lock the window when you closed it.    

Walking to the deck with screwdriver in hand and saying a silent prayer, I pushed on the window. 

It went up!  Yay, Annie.  

Next, I had to get inside.  The couch sits on the other side of that window.  I got about halfway in and realized that guiding my body would be a good idea, lest I bypass the couch and land head first on the floor.  

While doing my planning, I also envisioned the jaw dropping that could occur if a car happened to come by and occupants saw those two legs dangling outside the Love's front window. 

Couldn't help but chuckle on that one, but there was work to be done.  Those legs needed to go through the window alongwith the front end of the body.  

AND to guide myself, using both hands without a screwdriver in one hand would be a wise choice----not only for guiding but also for safety.

Once again I envisioned those legs dangling outside that window and someone finding the body bleeding all over the couch, thanks to self-inflicted screwdriver stab.

Logic told me to get rid of the screwdriver, so I did, and then slid the rest of my body onto the couch, laid there and laughed for a minute while happy little Foster came to lick me in the face.  

After that night, I searched for house keys and found a good spot outside the house, should I suffer from self-inflicted lock-out in the future. 

So, I've actually got staying-home-alone experience fairly well mastered for an old fraidy cat, which means that christening the travel trailer bed last night should have been a piece of cake. 

After we returned from dinner with family, I took off for the trailer with a fan (to muffle out all outside freaky noises), a bottle of water, an extra blanket and my cell phone just in case I needed to call for help.

While watching me head out the door with my supplies, Bill asked Annie if the two of them should take turns on the all-night "Marianne watch." 

For some reason, he had little faith in my ability to last the night in that trailer.

Well, I did, but let's just say it wasn't easy.  

After all, the trailer sits off away from the house in an area where deer, moose, raccoon, probably a few coyotes and, for certain, Big Foot regularly pass through during the night. 

So, sounds were important.   I turned the fan to its loudest rotation.  Then, I got to thinking that if Big Foot was outside the trailer door, I would not know he was there if the fan was going. 

With that concern, I turned off the fan and opted for a little radio music.  After discovering it was on a hard rock station, I knew that noise wasn't gonna serenade me to sleep.  

So, I got up and tuned in K102, our local country station.  After listening to a few songs and far too much chatter from the deejay who tends to laugh loudly at her jokes, I decided to go back to the fan option.

Just as I was almost settling into sleep, I needed to go to the bathroom, so I christened that part of the trailer too.  

This is just plain orientation, I thought as I climbed back into bed.  With all this activity, I'll have the trailer all figured out before the sun comes up.  

Eventually, as I was almost drifting into snooze mode,  THE ITCH from my springtime allergy went into full action on my neck----the most persistent itch of the season. 

Finally, I could stand no more, so I arose once more and turned on the water to wet a paper towel.  Cold moisture against my neck does shut the ITCH up for a time. 

I did fall asleep and during that four-hour nap did not wake up to any weird, scary sounds, thanks to the faithful fan. 

It was a short night, but I survived.  What doesn't kill you makes you stronger!, they say.  

Well, I've survived several nights alone this week without having to use screwdrivers or baseball bats, so I'm feeling downright invincible this morning, albeit a rather tired and itchy invincibility. 

Now, to get on with a busy, fun day:  Moose Valley, Derby and Geocaching gathering.  I think I'll let Bill go through trailer orientation tonight.  

Happy Saturday.