“’Is this thing safe?'” “‘Safe as life,” Gansey replied.’” 

Today is an ugly day, an ugly winter’s day. It is downright cold. Right now it is 32˚with a here and gone wind. The dogs come inside with cold fur and really cold ears. The sun isn’t expected today.

The dogs perfectly performed the door shtick. They both tried to go out the same time and both got stuck in the dog door. I unsympathetically laughed before I pulled Nala back so Henry could get outside. Speaking of Nala, my convict trash pick-up stick has arrived. It is a bright yellow. If the wind dies a bit, I’ll clean the trash in the yard today.

Yesterday morning, my coffee maker wouldn’t turn on. I pushed the button up and down and up and down again, nothing. I was in a panic faced with the thought of no coffee. I pushed the button hard up and down again a couple of times. The light came on then went off. With my vast electrical experience, I knew it had to be a short. I pushed the button up and down over and over driven by the need for caffeine. The red button came on and the coffee started then it went off. I did the button thing and got it to turn on but was stuck holding the button until it held. This morning, the coffee maker turned right on and stayed on. It is perplexing.

Mostly I am not afraid of things. I get nervous and wary, but that’s usually where I stop. I have never understood people, sadly mostly women, running and screaming when they see a spider, a beneficial arachnid. My neighbor is afraid of bats. I can’t even remember the last time I saw a bat around here so fearing one seems a bit of wasting one’s psyche. He says bats suck blood out of people’s necks. He’s seen it he says. I do understand a fear of clowns. I mean, really, look at Killer Klowns from Outer Space and any reiterations of Pennywise.

I know my house and all its sounds. At night, I sleep through those sounds, but I’ll wake up immediately at a different sound and listen for it. Rain is one of those sounds. I’ll hear drops hitting my window and roof, sometimes big, noisy drops. A gagging dog is another of those sounds, the grossest I think. Wind wakes me. A barking dog jolts me awake. Most times, once I identify what I heard, I just go back to sleep.

My house gives me not only comfort but also a sense of refuge, safeness. It has always been that way, but now I have an extra layer. Henry, the barker, alerts me to stuff I don’t hear or see. I figure any potential house breakers hearing him will bypass my house. Henry isn’t kidding. Nala follows his lead. I am thankful.

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