Home Alone

Pan with yarrow and catmint in background

Saturday night. J-man in Colorado

Get ready for bed. First, paranoid security check, booby trapping doors and checking weapons. Got all the traditional hurty things--guns and J-man's sword collection--and the improvisational--lamp on my dresser. Paranoid security plan includes provision for worthless dogs whereby I will stuff them in the closet for their protection while I do battle.

Climb into bed and do a little reading. Fool neighbor dog is barking...and barking. Remember that I didn't feed the catfish. Get up; drop algae wafers in each tank. Back to bed. Fool neighbor dog is still barking and has been joined by several others.

Hear war drums. No, it's just the Nikster banging on his feeder. Hooves must be handy. Like hammers on the end of your feet. Debate getting up to shut him up. Uh-uh. If neighbor dog can bark all night, Nikster can express his musical talents and drum away.

Nikster stops drumming. Dogs still barking. See something brown moving across carpet. A cockroach? We don't have cockroaches! Whew. Just a cricket. Chuck a sock at Jiminy and he hippity-hops into the hallway.

Put book away, switch off lamp/alternate weapon and try to sleep. Cricket in hallway starts singing. Is joined in stereo by cricket in kitchen. (They love the kitchen; good acoustics.) Have a lurid fantasy involving a shoe and splattered cricket gore. Neighbor dogs are still barking. Have another lurid fantasy involving a gun and splattered brains of dogs' owners. Then the coyotes get after something and let out blood curdling war whoops.

Stuff pillow over head and finally get to sleep. The country ain't quiet.

Happy Sunday.