... is to wake me from a sound sleep with the idea that the house is on fire. (This is not the first time it's happened!)
I woke from a very disturbing dream this morning to my alarm, turned it off, and went back to bed. As I snuggled back under the covers, I realized I was smelling smoke through the vent in my room. In a panic, I threw on jeans and a t-shirt, feeling the door for heat before I threw it open and ran into the hall. It was certainly smoke I smelled, and it concerned me that the smoke detector wasn't going off and that no one else -- Mom took the day off -- seemed to be aware of the problem.
Either that, I thought wryly,
or I'm having a stroke.I felt Mikey's door, worried that something had gone awry with his nightlight. Nothing. Mom and Dad's door was open and their room unoccupied, as was the main bathroom. I ran to the kitchen, where I was greeted from the dining room with a cheery, "Good morning!"
"Did you burn toast?" I asked, my heart still nervously aflutter.
"Yes," Mom answered. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just thought the house was on fire, is all," I sighed.
"Oh," Mom snickered, "I'm sorry."
Mom told me that Dad stuck a yard stick in the snow on the deck before leaving for work -- we had a good four inches then.
( Snowy day (with pictures!) )Mom's done in for the day. After shoveling a path from the back door, off the deck, and into the yard for her dog, who refused to go in the snow, she cleared a path down the driveway and made the entrance passable for Dad's car. It's still coming down; I think I need to get shoveling. I'm going to take Mikey out to play, when he wakes up from his nap.
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