Where’s my coffee?
Our area has another plane crash, this time on the road beside the airport. According to the Worcester Telegram, a passerby helped get two men out of the plane, both alive at the time.
It gets scarier and scarier all the time to live within a mile of that airport, and I’ve lived within a mile of it my whole life. My parents lived on the take-off path, and I now live on the landing approach. I don’t know which one is worse, given that planes have crashed near their neighborhood, and the big one last year was near mine.
Night 4 of thunderstorms in the wee hours of the morning. I’m actually getting used to it – probably because they haven’t been as close to me as they have to some other areas in Mass.
But they pale in comparison to the backup battery in the 1st floor smoke detector getting low, prompting a quick chirp from said appliance every 1-3 minutes last night, starting at about, oh, 3am.
I wasn’t about to stumble downstairs to replace the battery at 3am, given that I’d need to reach it, remove it, then figure out if I had the right kind of battery. The smoke detectors in our house are hard-wired, so it’s not like I risked it not going off. Which would have been the case if I unplugged the damned thing until the sun came up.
So it turns out we did have a 9 volt battery in the collection, and it’s back up on the ceiling being a silent sentry. God, was that ever annoying, though. I am sick and tired of not sleeping through the night – I mean, at least when it happens because the baby doesn’t sleep through the night, you have the side benefit of having a baby. You know?
Sheesh, if anyone ever spots something broken here that shouldn’t be (like, say, the archives?) could you just drop a note? Even if it’s a comment to a post, I’ll get it! And then I can fix it!
Thanks Mitch for being brave enough to drop me an e-mail, and in quivering voice, mention that my permalinks were hosed. Your Dunkin Munchkin is in the mail.