A Christmas Blessing…

Today has been an interesting day. This morning I found out I have a repeat offender living in my neighborhood. His name is Chaser and he’s a Bengal cat. I thought he was a stray. He’d been hanging around my house for over a week and I called Broomfield animal control because I figured someone was missing him. His markings were unusual and I could tell he was either a Serengeti or Bengal breed – very expensive cats. Two officers came to my house within the hour. When I showed them his picture, they smiled and nodded their heads. “We know this cat. His name is Chaser, and he lives in the next street. He roams all over, but he’s not a stray, he has owner.” I burst out laughing. “Well, you know you’re in trouble when animal control knows your name.”

This evening while cooking dinner, I set off the smoke alarm. It brought back memories of the last time this happened about two years ago when I was staying with my older son, Bryan, and my two grandkids, Atalie and Greyson. I set it off one evening and had to open all the doors and windows to let the smoke out. Greyson came running in asking, “Is dinner ready? I heard the smoke alarm.” I decided that was a good time to hang up my apron. Who needs a dinner bell when you have a smoke alarm. It was a nostalgic memory that made me smile and miss them terribly, and obviously, I’m still setting off the smoke alarm.

Later, after I found Zoey hiding in a dark bathroom (guess deaf dogs can hear certain pitches), and Maggie under the bed, my younger son, Matt, and I sat down to eat dinner, and it was then I got a whiff of soft perfume. I looked around confused because the house was still a little smoky, all my plug-in air fresheners are pine scent, and I don’t wear perfume. All during dinner I kept getting whiffs of this nice smell until I finally put my fork down and said, “Okay, who is it? Mom? Is that you? Hey, I didn’t burn the house down and I promise we’re all okay.”