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Day 1 sans Nic: Tired!

Did NOT sleep well last night.

Partly due to the excitement of the day – partly due to the Plane Stalker Tracker website that I kept refreshing into the wee hours of the morning.


I watched a little picture of the plane my son was on traverse across the States and noted the altitude, speed and duration of his flight.

When I did sleep, my dreams were riddled with nightmares.  Robberies, guns … probably due to the fact that there were several noises during the night that woke me and Butters up.

I have to admit, when she barked in the night, I startled.  I usually don’t startle. 

I am the one that checks out the ‘bumps in the night’.  I’ll just walk right outside stupidly bravely and see what the hell is going on.

I guess subconsciously, knowing no one is home to report my murder got to me. 

Let’s face it – the dog is useless.  For all her barking at everything that passes the house (cars, cats, rabbits, lizards, bicyclists, joggers, ants …) she has no bite. 

Do I really expect THIS to be my guard dog?


I also kept swiping at my ipad during my waking moments as I now have two men that I adore (and was hoping to hear from), on a continent and time zone that is not mine.


This morning I faked ‘awake’ as best as I could and caught up on the work I missed yesterday. 

Then spoke with my friend in the UK who was going to see my son and mom.  l told him, “I want proof of life!”  I begged for a picture – and I got one. 

Here’s Nic in England proudly wearing an England Football shirt given to him by my friend Rory. (He’s the one in the photo that doesn’t look like he was just on a 10 hour plane ride.)


I was content then.  My ‘baby’ was safe. 

I delved back into work.

Then it happened.

For the first time ever.

During a thrilling power point presentation on the Home Equity Conversion Mortgage process.  I nodded off.

Upright, in my chair.


I startled awake and finished the presentation.

My boss:  “You struggling over there?”

Me: “Yeah … oh my god, is it only 3 o’clock??”

My boss: “Yup.”

I decided the only thing to do was to stumble over to the gas station across the street and get some coffee.

And a hot dog.

Because I’m still comfort eating.  Besides, I planned to immediately become intimate with the couch when I got home, and knew I wouldn’t have dinner. 

I make great excuses for eating crap. 

There was a little post-it note on my calendar in my bosses handwriting that he ninja-like managed to sneak there without me noticing.

“That isn’t just coffee”

I was a little punchy after my nap, so I just eye balled him as I bit into my hot dog.

Home now. 

And the couch is waiting. 

So the word for day one is: TIRED! 

I haven’t reached ‘lonely’ status yet – so the dog is safe from conversation and pestering. 

But I’m sure when I do, it will go like this:


Butters the brave (not)

My dog is very brave … when there is no danger. 

The other evening, sitting outside reading, a shot could be heard in the distance.  I’m used to these rural sounds.  But evidently it scared Butters as she ran past my wicker chair into the house.

Thanks for leaving me out there trusty friend.

Last night at 10 ish, I heard thudding.  I assumed it was my son church mousing around and hadn’t felt well that day – rolled over and went to sleep.

After midnight something woke me.  I looked at the clock 12:30 am.  My sturdy King sized bed shook as 3 succinct thuds vibrated through the thin walls. 

Butters alerted – but didn’t rise. 

I have long abandoned fear of the dark or of ‘bumps in the night’.  Motherhood has that side effect.  Up I got.

My first stop, Nic’s room.

He lay sleeping, the glow of the television lighting his face. 


I checked the side door window – nothing out there.

Purposely avoided the front door, for now, and checked the window from my bathroom at the other end of the home.  Nothing I could see.

Alright – the front door.  I parted the window blinds hoping there would not be a face.  I felt pretty safe – I just dreaded being startled.

Deep breath.





I considered getting my knife – but decided against it.  Opened the door for Butters to investigate. 

Butters did not want to go outside. 

This unnerved me more than the noise.  If it was an innocuous source, she would have trotted out there, woofing her bravado.

I closed the door and checked all the locks and did the only thing I could do.  

Went back to bed. 

The mornings are dark.  There was a sensation that something was ‘off’ at 6 am. 

Usual routine is: I get up, use the bathroom, let the dog out, start the coffee, take breakfast in to Nic and make sure he’s awake.  

I did those things and noticed Butters did not go far.  In fact, she didn’t leave the porch. 

Perhaps whatever visited us in the night left its scent – or perhaps she’s just a chicken with a good memory.

I noted the gate was closed.  

I doubt a lurker would politely close my gate. 

I’m hoping the thuds were from some night-time military testing in the mountains.  But three separate thuds in a row?  Odd.

As I waved goodbye to Nic, he said as he stepped off the porch ‘hope I don’t die!’

‘You?’ I answered, ‘You’re leaving the creepy zone.’!

That put a little pep in his step and off he went down the dark road. 

Butters is currently on my bed as I type last nights events – staying safe from the memory of when she wasn’t brave?

Butters Bed1