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Alone in the house

Today has been a special day for me. It's my 10 year anniversary with my husband and we have been happy every day of that time...no kidding. Strange I know, all couples have their issues but we have had more good then bad times and I am thrilled to say I am looking forward to the next 60 years with excitement and joy with this man. Ok, enough of the mushy stuff.

Today has also come with some unexpected twists and turns, not related to my anniversary. As I worked at home, writing for my next book, the house was uncharacteristically quiet. There were no nephews in the house, they went back with their mom. My kids were at school and my father was out most of the day. I listened to the house move, groan and make odd noises. The dogs were all outside and so I was almost completely alone except for my faithful furry friend, LaFuzz the cat.

Yes, the cat and I were the only constants in the house and the house was telling me all kinds of new and strange things. I heard creaks from the stairs and saw no one there. I heard knocking on the walls in my room. No one was there again. I heard the heavy footsteps of someone walking downstairs but again I was alone with the cat.

This is something new for me. I have almost literally never been alone in the house before. There has always been someone in the house with me. Either the kids, my sister, my father (who almost never leaves the house) or my husband. This time I was utterly alone. I walked around the house just looking into rooms and dark corners looking for the source to these noises and found none.  I told myself that it was just the house settling and that there was nothing sinister going on.

I kept working ignoring most of the noises and tried to get some work done. I had almost succeeded when I heard the breathing again. If you have been reading my blog you will remember that I had heard breathing about a month ago. It was late at night and everyone was asleep. This time I was wide awake and it was daytime. I was in the office alone. I don't know where the cat was this time but I was alone. I heard heavy breathing. It was like someone was doing something that required a lot of effort. I called out to my father thinking that he had come back early but there was no response.

I called for the cat, thinking that if the cat was ok with whatever was going on then it was either my imagination or someone outside. I looked everywhere and finally found him in my daughter's closet hiding behind the clothes basket. I grabbed LaFuzz and went back to the office. I closed the doors and went back to work. After about thirty minutes or so and out of no where, LaFuzz fluffed up twice his size and was hissing. He scared the crap out of me. I looked at the closed french doors and wondered what was on the other side of them that was pissing off the cat. I watched the cat staring intently at the door. I got up slowly and stood at the door just listening. I didn't hear anything. No noise. No creaking, no knocking, nothing. I opened the door and the cat bolted into the office closet. I looked around, I called out "who's there?" (classic horror movie stuff) and saw and heard nothing. As I walked back upstairs the cat was at the top looking at me.

It wasn't ten minutes later that my father came back and I was relieved. I felt like a scared kid left at home alone while here parents were out, except I am the parent. What a yellow cat I felt like. It wasn't until I was in the car going to a parent/teacher conference that I regained my "adult" composure. It just served to remind me that when something scary happens, we revert back to being scared kids wanting our parents to comfort us. We never stopped to think about who comforted them.

Until next time...

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