From the depths of my slumber I rolled over to look at the clock: 1:47 a.m.
"Who on God's moonlit earth would be ringing the doorbell at such an hour?"
For the past eight days I've been hanging out at my daughter's home while she vacations in Hawaii (poor dear). Miss Rylie and I have had the best of times, but this particular night was not one of them.
With some sense of unease I got out of bed (may I mention here the temps were hovering near 40 that night, and it was raining; and I'd brought no bathrobe?). I tip-toed downstairs to peer out the front window, only to discover an empty front porch. The elusive doorbell ringer was ... well, elusive. Nobody there. It merely enhanced my unease.
I then went to each of the doors & windows to be sure I'd locked them. I flipped on exterior lights. Nothing. Nada. Silence. Blackest night was all that peered back at me.
So, chilled, wide awake and still a bit uneasy I returned to bed. The remainder of the night was not very restful.
Come morning, I asked Rylie if she'd been disturbed by the doorbell. With the most quizzical look on her face she says to me: "Grandma, we DON'T HAVE a doorbell." (It's OK if you break out in fits of laughter now; I sure did!!!)
I could embellish this story greatly, or fill in many blanks here because there's a moral to this story; several morals, actually.
Let's just say I learned another valuable lesson with this little happening. No matter how certain I am about the dread of this or that, I might just be buying myself some cold & unease (dare I say fear) for no good reason. I'm thinking that's a pretty hefty price to pay for a virtual doorbell.