'Twas The Night After Christmas

2:25 a.m. Loud crashing sound from another part of the house. I bolt upright in bed. “What was that?” I ask very loudly. Hubby investigates and then announces, “Ansel Adams fell off the wall.” “Did it break?” I ask. “No.”

This is the addition the previous owners built.

This is the brick wall that used to be the back of the house before the addition the previous owners built.

This is the brick hook that was attached to the brick wall that used to be the back of the house before the addition the previous owners built.

This is the Ansel Adams picture that hung on the brick hook that was attached to the brick wall that used to be the back of the house before the addition the previous owners built.

Personally I would have covered this brick wall with sheetrock and made it look less like an addition. That is one of the items on our to do list; along with painting over this room’s white walls. How long have we lived here now?

What made this picture jump off the wall? Did we have an earthquake? Why are you laughing? You didn’t know that there is a fault line running through Oklahoma. Yep, it’s called the Meers Fault and it’s located somewhere out there in the Wichita Mountains. I felt the big one on April 28, 1998. The seismograph located inside the Meers Store recorded it as a magnitude 4.2. It felt like my house was doing the wave.

Here’s a very weird coincidence, the picture hanging next to the Ansel Adams picture that hung on the brick hook that was attached to the brick wall that used to be the back of the house before the addition the previous owners built, is a drawing of the Meers Store. Spooky.

Later in the morning I checked and there were no reports of quakes in the area. The last earthquake was December 1 in OKC. So what happened? Did we have a nocturnal visitor? What? I meant the Ghost of Christmas Past or some other spirit trying to get our attention. Maybe someone wanted to wish us a Merry Christmas.

Or maybe this is just a case of delayed vibration from someone’s big o’ Fred Flintstone feet stomping through the house one too many times. Anyway, I should be used to banging in the middle of the night. Huh?

At least once a week, I’m startled awake by the sound of the newspaper smacking up against the front storm door. When the dogs hear it, they run to the front door barking. Oh good times! But what am I going to do? Call and complain? I don’t think so.

"Hello newspaper office. Yes, when the carrier diligently delivers the newspaper three hundred sixty four days a year no matter what the weather conditions directly to my front door at 3:00 a.m. so that I don’t have to walk down my driveway in the morning to retrieve it wearing my housecoat and slippers like Barry Switzer does in Norman; instead all I have to do is open the door and reach down. Yeah, could the carrier do that more quietly please?"

Obviously, that phone conversation will never take place. Some things you just don’t want to complain about. Like when your husband comes home from Sam’s Club with a new microwave because your old microwave’s door no longer opened with the push of a button and you really needed a new microwave that works well and doesn’t omit a high pitched humming sound all the time. But this new microwave is the size of a Volkswagen Beetle and barely fits underneath the cabinets while it’s sitting on top of the countertop/workspace that you now have very precious little of remaining. So you just say, “Thanks. Wow, honey, that’s really something.” Knowing that you will pay him back when you finally get around to remodeling the kitchen (also on the to do list), because you now get to add on an addition to accommodate said microwave. Something like that.

3:00 a.m. I’m listening to the sound of the wind chimes blowing on the front porch. Obviously the weather is changing from the balmy mid 70’s of the previous day. I seriously thought I was going to have to turn the ac on before bedtime. It was 69° when I turned in at 12:30.

I realize that my hip is feeling achy. I’ve learned this year that cold temperatures make arthritis feel worse. This discomfort should all be gone with my upcoming surgery. The last two days were warm and pleasant. I was able to move freely and accomplish a lot around my house. I didn’t make the connection between the two until I was laying there unable to go back to sleep.

3:06 a.m. Cricket’s paws hit the side of the bed. She ducks under the covers.

3:07 a.m. Howling winds begin, followed by lightening and torrential rain. Is that hail I hear?

3:08 a.m. Cricket tries to crawl inside my body. Reminds me of the scene at the beginning of Star Wars The Empire Strikes Back where Luke Skywalker crawls inside the belly of the Tauntaun he had been riding to keep from freezing to death on the ice planet Hoth.

So then I’m thinking about Star Wars and I start to chuckle remembering a conversation Hubby and I had a few weeks back. We were eating lunch at one of our favorite Mexican restaurants, Julio’s. He commented that if he owned the place, he would paint a giant mural on the wall. A mural of the inside of a cantina.

Cantina? Who says cantina? The only cantina my geeky mind could think of was the one from Star Wars where Luke Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi go to hire Han Solo and Chewbacca to transport them off the planet Tatooine. It’s called the Chalmun’s Cantina and is located in the pirate city of Mos Eisley. It’s famous for these crazy musicians named Figrin D’an and the Modal Nodes. They look like this.

 

So Hubby and I are discussing how funny it would be to have the Star Wars Cantina Band painted on the wall morphed into a Mariachi Band wearing big sombreros. I about blew salsa out my nose thinking how hysterical that would look. Only at the time I was also having a Sela Ward moment and couldn’t for the live of me actually remember the name of the Star Wars cantina where Luke Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi go to hire Han Solo and Chewbacca to transport them off the planet Tatooine. That recollection came a week or so later after reading a reference to a Jawa in my brother’s blog. Yes, this really is how my mind works. Frightening isn’t it? But what else are you going to do at 3:15 a.m.?

3:25 a.m. It’s storming so bad at this point that I feel the urge to turn on the local news to see if I need to DUCK. That’s what our local weather guys here in tornado alley say during storms. D for Downstairs. U for Underneath something. C for Center part of house. K for Keep away from windows. Or just follow little Cricket’s lead.

Dish network has lost the satellite feed. That’s helpful.

3:27 a.m. Stomach is making growling sounds now, so I head to the kitchen for a bowl of delicious Kellogg’s Fruit Harvest. This cereal has strawberries and blueberries and turns the milk an interesting lavender color. It's Smurf-tastic!

 

3:30 a.m. Internet connection is still up, so I check the local weather map. This storm will pass within the hour. I head back to bed. Next, I’m out finding treasures at garage sales ...zzzz... bought some lamps, and then I did other stuff ...zzzz... I don’t remember now.

7:36 a.m. I’m awakened by the sound of Hubby opening the front door to retrieve the newspaper. As I hear him immediately remove the rubber band from the roll, I know all is as it should be. “Wake up, sweet Cricket. It’s morning.”

Comments

[Rick]

The ghost of the old lady who lives in the dining room strikes again...

[Eric]

I'm sure this was a good post.

Unfortunately, I started daydreaming about Meersburgers after the first few paragraphs, and could never pull out of it.

Ah, Meersburgers...

I could write Shakespearean love sonnets about Meersburgers, if I knew exactly what a Shakespearean love sonnet was.

Happy New Year!

[Okie Sister]

You guys are too funny!

[Shari]

I think I had that same night! Well, not the picture part, but certainly the up-all-night storm part! Gotta love Oklahoma.

[Brenda Kula]

That coincidence is eerie. You know what I'm doing while you're in the midst of all this? Sleeping. Courtesy of a little magic pill called Ambien CR (continuous relief...) My husband has no arthritic symptoms after two hip replacements. Yet I hobble from the bed to the floor each and every morning and again in the evening to do my stretching exercises so my aching back will allow me to be mobile. Get the surgery.
Brenda

[Nikki Jo]

The more I read your blog the more i realize... I AM my mother's daughter.

[Okie Sister]

It happens, daughter, it happens.