Tag Archives: policemen


6 Mar

I put an inquiry on the local “Nextdoor” blog this morning asking if anyone knew what had happened last night, and one woman suggested I call the local police station and ask. Yeesh. How obvious is that?

And so I did.

Apparently it was a domestic dispute between a man and his dad. One of them was threatening to burn down the house, and “we took him to the hospital”. Not sure which “he” was “who”, but it wasn’t anything for us to worry about. No guns or loose cannons.


The Crazy Cat Lady

15 Jul

Saturday’s mail brought a notice from the County Police, warning us about excessive false alarms. Say what?

Well, late Wednesday afternoon The Squire had called a fellow from church to come over and feed the dog. This man has never had to deal with our alarm system, and…well, let’s just he’s a typical rocket scientist, and leave it at that.  There are two other people in the parish who know both the system and the dog, including the Godson’s mother.  There is a key hidden some distance from the house, and a “clicker” similar to a car fob, in the house. (No, I’m not  telling you where it is.) You have a full minute from the time you open the door to locate the clicker and turn off the alarm. Even if the alarm starts to sound, you can call the company, identify yourself and tell them everything is fine, and you’re good to go. If you do NOT call within five minutes, the company calls you, and then they call the police.

“Mac” located the key in the proper outbuilding, but couldn’t find the fob when he got in. He let the dog out, fixed his supper, brought him inside, and left, with the siren going all the time. Just as he was leaving, he heard the phone ring, but figured the call was for us, and let it roll to the answering machine.  In his defense – I guess – Mac didn’t know the alarm was “connected”; he just figured it made noise to frighten the peasants.

Which is why, when my husband got home from the hospital, the police were in the driveway, looking for a forced entry.

Our rector got married on Saturday, and a good time was had by all. I was supposed to read the lesson from Corinthians, but the trauma to my throat gives me coughing fits, so The Squire read it for me.  We have one really multi-talented family in our parish, and I think they could probably do the entire wedding by themselves. The father-in-law, the mother, and one son are professional photographers, and the dad makes and decorates the most marvelous cakes. All of them play musical instruments; you need a trumpet voluntary? Go it covered.

After church yesterday I came home and put on a little “skimmy” sundress. I had no intention of going outside (I consider summer simply a sneaky way to get me out where the bugs can reach me), but it was almost 100, and I figured I might as well stay as cool as possible.  The Squire, bless him, cranked the a/c to “polar” (68-F, for Pete’s sake!), so I pulled a polo shirt over my dress. Later, while I was in the den, he turned the fan to blow cold air in here. I went and got a moth-eaten wool sweater. And I was still chilly.

When I went out in the evening to feed the critters, I stepped into a pair of pink boots. Turquoise dress, black polo, baby blue sweater, and pink snow boots. In July.

Fortunately, we don’t have any close neighbors.