Telling On Myself

Oh, oh, telling on myself
Oh, oh, telling on myself
Well, there's nothing to lose
And I've got nothing to prove
Telling on myself...

Yeah. I'm not Billy Idol. If I could cut a deal, I'd ask the world to squeal...but for now, I'm telling on myself.

Remember how that little door on Hick's gun cabinet opened by itself last week? And I left it open, and 24 hours later, it had opened itself even more? Well...perhaps I've been a little jumpy in the basement these past few days. And blog buddy Linda mentioned how her little guy talked about seeing an unfamiliar man in her bed. Which made me think of something Genius went through back at that age. So maybe you can understand how this tattle-worthy event came about.

Saturday night, I came back to the homestead without Hick. We'd returned from the casino, and he picked up his Trailblazer at the Storage Unit Store, then left for the auction. I stayed in town for a couple items at Country Mart. By the time I got home, it was just getting dark. I'm not easily spooked. I've lived in the country for a long time. I'm not afraid to enter an empty house alone.

I went about my business. Changed clothes and went down to my dark basement lair. I was a bit apprehensive as I checked that cabinet door, but it was closed, like I'd left it on Friday night. Around 9:00 I went upstairs for a snack of some Raisin Bran. We'd had our lupper (lunch/supper) at 4:15, which threw off my meal schedule of 2:00 lunch and 7:00 supper.

The kitchen light was on, and the mini-blinds open. We get the morning sun from that direction, and leave the blinds open all the time. That side of the house faces the woods that run down to the creek. I never think of anybody peeping in. It's about a 15-foot drop off the wraparound porch.

As I was at the counter, those three big window to my right shoulder, across the kitchen sink counter and the kitchen table area...I was startled by Juno barking. It was her I MEAN BUSINESS bark. Her house is right outside the kitchen door. Granted, Juno carries on like this when the neighbor dog Copper Jack comes up on the porch to walk around and get a drink from her water bowl on the other side of the curved bump-out area where those windows are. "KNOCK IT OFF, JUNO!" I said it more for my benefit, because I imagine she heard me say "wah-wah-wah, JUNO!"

I glanced at the windows, expecting to see the shadow of Copper Jack's sleek orange body walking by, tail raised to show Juno that he would not be intimidated. WAIT A MINUTE! THAT WASN'T COPPER JACK!

I swear I saw a person out there, looking in! Just a glimpse! Then he was gone! My heart was pounding. Someone was up on the porch peeping at me! And there I was, plain to see, in a lit-up house, while he was out there in the dark, where I couldn't get a clear look! Not that I wanted to!

I thought of rushing to turn the mini-blinds closed. But that would put me closer to him. I looked at the doorknob. Thank goodness I had locked it when I came in. But the porch light wasn't on. Maybe I should go turn it on for Hick when he got home around 10:30. Yeah. That's what I should do. Go turn on the porch light. And if that creeper/peeper was out there, he'd know I was onto him. Maybe he'd scamper away. So I turned on the light, first hitting the wrong switch, which turned on the kitchen light over the table, illuminating me even more. I fumbled and got it off, and the porch light on. Flipped the mini-blinds built into the kitchen door frame. Nobody out there. Juno looking up at me, wagging her tail.

I toyed with the idea of closing those other blinds, but didn't want to get that close to the windows. What if that creeper/peeper jumped at me while I was looking out? No siree, Bob! I wasn't getting close to them. I went back to the counter to get my tray that had my cereal bowl on it. I couldn't help but look at the windows again. WHAT??? THERE HE WAS AGAIN!

It took a minute to realize that I was seeing my reflection in the middle window as I leaned my head back. Yet when I resumed my position at the counter, my reflection disappeared in the wood framing between the windows.

SHEESH! I'm gonna scare myself to death one of these days!

Anyhoo...I went back downstairs to my lair. When Hick came home, I went to holler at him from the bottom of the steps. Just regular talk about a text he'd sent me. Not actual hollering. I wasn't spooked any more, even though every time I walk past that area now, I cast furtive glances at the gun cabinet.

When I came out of my office about an hour later, to watch TV in my OPC (Old People Chair), something seemed off. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I first checked on the little cabinet door. Nope. Still closed. What was it? Oh! This area was too dark! Too dark by my office. Thank goodness I'd turned on the table lamp and the bendy lamp over by my OPC when I came out talking to Hick. Because both of the ceiling lights by my office were burned out!

What are the odds of THAT? I took a picture to prove it happened. We used to have a light over by the OPC that went on and off at will. Just when you'd think it was burned out and needed replacing after 3 days, it would come back on by itself. You can even see it in the picture, past the steps. It's just a bare bulb in the ceiling, no cover on it. As a matter of fact, once I sat down in my OPC, I noticed that THIS light bulb was also burned out! That's when it hit me.

I'd turned off the overhead lights when I went out to talk to Hick.

Yeah. There you have it. Val was scared of her own reflection, and forgot that she turned out the lights. You heard it from me first.