A chilling thing happened yesterday. As I was sitting down at the machine to post an entry about my cat, I noticed that a "comment" had been entered into this blog -- and it was sent from somewhere outside of the house! Without hesitation, I nervously phoned my sister Paula who in turn phoned the authorities while I quickly examined windows and doors both upstairs and down. Everything appeared secure, but nonetheless, the fright drove me straight to the liquor cabinet. I threw a sweater around my shoulders as it seemed the temperature in the house had suddenly dropped, and I downed two large belts of brandy. I was pouring a third when the silence was violently interrupted by a loud knock on the door. I dropped my snifter and it shattered on the floor. I didn't mean for that to rhyme. My head was spinning but as I gained partial composure, I heard the words "State Police" and I ran to the door.
I was relieved to see Lieutenant Ricky Rodgers with 9 competent officers standing behind him. Lieutenant Rodgers, perhaps the youngest and tallest member on the force, has been out to the house eleven and a half times in the past month. As a result, I believe we have forged something verging on friendship, at least as far as I'm concerned. The officers did a professional sweep of the grounds and found nothing out of the ordinary, although it appeared my new ottoman had been torn apart by what we assume to be raccoons. Still, I was comforted that Lieutenant Rodgers spent almost the entire night sleeping in his patrol car which was situated right at the end of my drive. Like you, I do hope things return to normal very, very soon.
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