Waking Up To Blooms and the Birth of Fear

The morning comes early for us. 6:00am I woke up to bacon, eggs, hot herbal tea, and a plate of fresh fruit; what a great beginning!

Today dawned as any other; my first thoughts were again of my three grown sons, my ill and aging cat, definitely breakfast, and the overloaded desk in the office. I stumbled clumsily awake, and drifted towards the kitchen smells. Oh, and Lynn, the cook. Never forget to thank the cook.

I spent a bit more time getting ready this morning; checking hub pages to see who has read my latest hub, and how it was going. Ok, I'll confess, most of the time was spent in front of the mirror, oh vanity, thy name is woman. I had new eye shadow, what's a gal to do?

After eating, I was surprised when I heard Lynn coming back upstairs from his early morning property check, and I could tell his footsteps were heavier. Isn't it odd how after all these years of marriage, subtle messages are absorbed through our senses?

I stopped my primping and stifled the urge to bat my new eyes at him...now wasn't the time. My first thought was, "The kids called on the cell, something's happened..." and in that moment my heart made the quantum leap that only a parent's heart knows. The momentary rush of adrenalin made my stomach hurt. I didn't want to look at his face.

"You're not going to believe this...." he said, soberly.

My heart was now ramming against my rib cage. Newly painted eyes wide open, I said "What, What?"

"No, stop it, it's not the kids!" He saw "that" look on my face and understood it instantly.

I sank to the edge of the bed, saying, "Well, if it's not the kids and we haven't bombed Iran, then it can't be too horrible." I could relax a bit, family was intact.

I'm not hysterically inclined, but 3 grown boys who can act without a brain sometimes will make you seem so.

"We were broken into last night. Several unit doors are dented, the fence is cut again, I don't know what else. I've got to go into all the buildings and check each outside unit door." This news, though sobering, brought yet another fear to the surface.

Over the past several months, we've had the fence to the property cut in several places. Our security here is minimal, and even though we were tempted to sit up at night and see who and what was happening, years of experience told Lynn that "to catch a thief" is not as easy as it sounds. You can invest a lot of nights into "no shows," leaving you with little more than red eyes and a gripey disposition.

My fear was bubbling to the surface. The front door is just one layer of protection, holding shut with a dead bolt that any strong youth could kick in. Oops, now that I've told the world, don't I feel safer.

I've mentioned to Lynn that I would like a storm door, so that should someone knock, I won't be completely vulnerable when I open it, and it will at least let me get my face on and the baseball bat at the ready should they kick it in. Hey, 10 more seconds to scream is at least that. I can dial 911 pretty dern quick in a panic as I scream for Lynn to save my life. If he wakes up in time, I know he'll rescue me.

Work being what it is, a dead run at 80 miles an hour for most days, we put it off. This morning, it's first on my list of "to do's." With the taste of fresh fear in my mouth, due to the escalation of the midnight uninvited guests, I put in the request for funds to buy the door, and Lynn agreed to install it.

We contacted the tenants, and set about getting the doors repaired. We discovered, through great detecting performed by a 30 year veteran now retired sleuth, they cut a hole in the fence. AGAIN. Different spot this time, more concealed. They are learning and becoming more bold, who knows if the next time they'll be coked up and kicking in our door or that of the office?

On the flip side of fear was the sweet greeting of the new blooms on the plants Lynn has nourished, while at the same time saying emphatically "I don't want to plant flowers, they're too much work; come look at these; aren't they going to be pretty?"

He argues with himself. Not me, I only requested the flowers. Barely a mention. Honest. I wouldn't even know how to begin to nag.

He answered with the normal "it-means-nothing-grumpiness," which is marriage code language for "of course I'll do it, honey." I majored in marital diplomacy, so I recognized the code instantly.

So, the morning glories were planted and are now "glorious" complete with bright marigolds and pink caladiums for friends. They were a soft spot in my somewhat scarey morning, as I try not to think of the down economy and how that will result in more crime, and why my spot in the world?? Why ANYONE'S spot?

In the days ahead, I'll enjoy my flowers, and realize the world is not lost, as I load my pistol.

Life continues: safety door up soon, flowers in the vase, and desk work overflows. IT knows no fear! I'm looking forward to breakfast in the morning, and won't forget to thank the cook. Yum! Good food, sweet smells, and a bit of fear. Ain't life exciting? Does it get anybetter than this?

With Blooms, Fear, and a gun I'm scared to look at, I'm surely going to make a great pistol-packin' mama.

As the earth spins, I am Marisue and I write.