i have lived in my tree house for forever. as you well know we're on our 11th year. and perhaps it is age (more aware of the risks), or responsibility (what would happen to the boy?!), or the people (neighbors) who reside close by in my space...this place has quite a history of juicy stories. or perhaps i am just done. the boy is old enough to know what's going on outside of our walls or in our parking lot, and even of mom (me) getting worked up (do i tell, do i call, do i stay out of it, do we just say a prayer).
just a few minutes ago as i sat in my quiet space working and reading (blog reading to be exact), i heard a knock that sent that familiar jolt in me that i described some posts ago. i determined it wasn't at my door and did some investigating (nosy-neighbor-style) through my peep hole. the knocking was constant...how rude and aggressive (normal people don't knock like that). it kept working in me as i was trying to figure the source so i would know what kind of situation i was dealing with. that way i know if i can ignore it or act on it. i went into my cute boy's room (he is fast asleep in mine) and like the hot/cold game, i knew i was getting hotter cause the knocking was getting louder. how scary! what if he was sleeping in there?!
Ohhhhhhh.
a hammer.
my
neighbor
is
HANGING APICTURE.it was totally obvious after a mild heart attack. you know the feeling of adrenaline in an almost wreck moment??? that's me right now.
perhaps picture hanging is for day time, yes? :)
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