Just in case any of you, dear readers, have ever thought me a clever, intelligent woman, let me disabuse you of that notion with this little story...
Last night I went out on the front deck after dark trying to pinpoint where the moon would be rising. I plan to take some photos of the supermoon and wanted to see exactly where in the sky I should be looking for Saturday's shots.
The moon was nearly full and incredibly bright...mesmerizing I think would be apt since I walked outside and never spared a thought for the door. It's never closed on its own before, so I was totally stunned when I heard the soft, almost gentle snick as it shut. And in that quiet moment between no it didn't and yeah it did, I wondered how it was possible this could have happened.
With a sinking feeling, I remember the fans. I had two big box fans blowing in the house because it was a very hot afternoon and evening. Evidently they generated enough air flow to shut a heavy, solid wooden door.
My heart raced as I lurched for the door knob, but of course it was way too late. Unbelievably, it's shut and locked. Locked. I am flaming hell locked out of my house at 9:30 at night, in the dark, no shoes, no keys, no tools, no nothing.
Okay, deep breath. Don't panic. I have a spare key stashed in the backyard under a large rock. Whew. Down the steps, quick dash up the driveway, open the gate, and into the rocks I go for the key. The moon is casting a brilliant light everywhere but in this one place where the key is hidden. Lifting the stone, I grope, cringe a bit when I disturb a family of potato bugs who roll away under my fingertips. But. Where is the key? I need the key to get into the garage to find the other key that will let me into the damn blasted house! Where is the key?
Oh holy crap.
I never got it back from my neighbor up the road when I was out of town last year. My neighbor who is currently in Canada.
Okay, deep breath. Don't panic. I look up to the back deck and realize my bedroom windows are open. All I have to do is pry off one of the screens and climb through the window. Yeah. Easy peasy and Bob's your uncle.
I should have known.
Have any of you tried to remove a screen with your fingernails? No? It's an experience. And it doesn't work. You need a screwdriver. I didn't have a screwdriver, or any other tool. I scrabble, I pinch, I prod, I curse like I've been possessed by an underworld fiend. Finally, many long minutes later, I get my littlest finger wedged between the screen frame and the window. I tug, I finagle and at last the top half of the screen pops away. The bottom half however was apparently Superglued in place. It will not come out, wiggle, move up or down, nothing.
I lose my patience somewhere between slicing my finger on the metal window frame and torquing my shoulder trying to manhandle the screen with brute force. I wish I were a 6-1/2 foot, 240-lb biker. With tools. Realizing I have no choice, I give up trying to save the screen and bend the upper portion down--yes, I bent the frigging damned frame--and try to squirm through a pie-shaped wedge my wee dogs would have trouble getting through.
I get one leg in, now I'm straddling the sill, and am just pulling the other leg in using a hop, slide, suck-in-the-belly movement, when my long gauzy skirt gets hooked on something. I love this skirt. It's new and jade green and wispy...perfect for hot Summer nights. Carefully I try to back out of the window, but suddenly the screen breaks free of the Superglue hold. Teetering on one leg, I lose my balance and fall forward--through the open window--taking the screen with me, accompanied by the wretched sound of my skirt ripping to shreds as I hit the floor in my bedroom.
The frigging screen...
And the damage of an Evel Knievel jump across Hell's Canyon...er...plunge through the window...
So. I ruined my skirt, will have to replace the bugger screen, and nearly nuked myself for the second time this week.
I can't say much for my intelligence...but I did manage to get into the house.