It all started last night.
Meat pie heating up in the toaster oven launched the little pans I keep on top and the rattle rose me off the sofa. Those pans have been on top of that oven forever. Why now? But of course that’s rhetorical so I stacked them back inside each other on top, finished dinner and went back into the den. Forgot all about it.
Woke up this morning at 2:13. Now I like to get up early, I like 3:53 best, actually...can be on the porch by 4 for a couple hours of good writing or a movie or whatever I want to do and it’s LOVELY. But 2:13 is too early the day before PSATs... Got up because sleep was avoiding me, made tea, got comfy on the sofa and watched stuff from the DVR. The plan is always to kinda relax back into some napping. Usually no writing occurs. Finally decided to sorta chip away at getting ready for the day so I was in the bathroom gathering the pieces of clothing when a little plastic container on the half wall by the walk-down shower decided to jump off and hit a wee cleaning bucket beside it and thuddy thumped like crazy. What the heck made that happen? Put the stuff back in its place and went on getting ready.
Back on the sofa with oatmeal for breakfast, watching something delightful on tv. Few minutes later I hear something like glass fall over—not break, just kinda fall over so I got up with my empty oatmeal bowl and there in the kitchen on the counter was my little juice glass on its side. No liquid. No reason. Just toppled over. This is getting creepy now, right? I was like it’s too early in the morning for this stuff.
Finished getting ready, left the house, pushed the garage door button like every single time I go anywhere and I get in the car, shut the door, put the key in the ignition, look up to see a broom, that sits in the corner of the front of the garage with a rod, a shovel, and has been there FOR*EV*ER, and I watch as it, in slow motion, of course, decide to tip it’s handle and slide the arch all the way down the wall to the floor.
Clearly my entire house was trying to tell me something. I get it—something potentially catastrophic is going to fall today and I need to be fully aware and alert so I can keep out of harm’s way.
Hurricane Michael was on its destructive path up the gulf and I was a little freaked that I’d not heard about it before yesterday morning! Now, on the way to school, my sister texted me to confirm that the storm was not going anywhere near our mother in Fort Myers. I glanced at the text, but waited the rest of the 10 minutes to get to school before replying. Pulled up onto my favorite parking space, turned off the car, put on the required lanyard with security ID (photo’s nearly 20 years old and I look like Bozo, but I digress) and texted Keri back to reassure her it might have rained and been windy but the monster was headed up to the panhandle. Put the phone in my back pocket, gathered my running shoes (it might rain), lunch in a bag, and some papers, punched the lock button on the car door, got out, shut the door, turned to head toward the portable, trying to maneuver everything so I could get my school keys out of my pocket—they weren’t there. Dangit. Turned around to get them out of the car...and realized...yep...you guessed it. Car keys had FALLEN OUT of my hand onto the car seat inside the locked car. And there it is. The moral of the story.
Triple A card was also still in the car... Yes I have AAA in my phone but turns out it was too old and wrong now. Tried to google the number but just couldn’t quite get to the right one—fortunately a friend came by who had his AAA card so I could call the 800 number. Within the hour, wiry little bearded guy drove up in his little truck and broke into my car after about 15 minutes working on it. So all is well.
At some point during the day something came up in class that brought all this to mind so I told the story. Before I got to the finish line—at about when the broom was falling over—my sweet junior girl with blue hair blurted with glee, “Ms Ballard! Your house is haunted!! Wanna borrow my ouija board to find out who it is?”
No, thanks, Emily, I’m Scots-Irish; if they want me to know who they are, they’ll just smack me in the back of the head and tell me when they’re ready.
Halloween is on its way, y’all!!!
