Sunday, February 15, 2009

The Visitor

Somehow, I was alone in the old creaky house. There was a fire in the fireplace and I was curled up on the couch with my laptop. I was just knocking on blogland's door to ask for a playdate when I heard a harsh three knocks at my own door. The dog snapped to attention and went psychotic, howling and snarling and scratching at the door with his teeth barred. He knew something I didn't.

As I roused myself from my warm nest and started padding my way toward the entryway, a shiver made its way up my spine. I shushed the dog harshly and flipped on the porch light. I could feel the cold February air making its way through the gap between door and frame before I even turned the handle. The wind was whipping out there, desperate for the warmth of people's homes.

The dog had changed his tune to a low growl, straight from his soul. He was staring at the door making a sound his ancestors of thousands of years ago had taught him.

"Hush up," I hissed at him. "That's just rude."

I opened the door a crack and the wind found its destination. The light was playing tricks on my eyes though, since I had been looking at the fire and my computer screen, and I couldn't see anybody standing on the stoop. It was 6:30, so it was fully dark. I shook my head a bit and gave a strong blink to try and see clearly.

No one. Empty stoop. The dog quieted down a bit, but he began wildly sniffing the air inside the house.

I opened the door all the way - man was it freezing out there - and leaned out. Wind had apparently told all his friends there was a party at my house, and the whole crew was coming in now, looking for a place to sit down, asking what I had to drink.

"Hello? Helloooo?" Emptiness.

It dawned on me right then that it was too late. I had let him in with the wind. I hadn't seen the signs. He was here and I had let him in. Damn it. It was done. How stupid can I be?

I closed the door with big, but futile hopes that he had not liked what he'd seen and had let himself out. How naive I'd been. I hate that about myself. Yup. Definitely him.

The chill in my house was one of many signs that he was an uninvited guest, making himself comfortable. He'd sit down next to me shortly, and he won't leave until spring. He's an intruder who likes to find me during February and settle right in. Cozy up with me. He'll follow me around telling me all the things he doesn't like about me.

In the past, I've practically offered him coffee and chocolate. Not this time, guy. Keep it short.


Sandi said...

I hate the visitor! He comes here often too.

Sending you warm, happy thoughts to counter the chill in the air.

patty said...

Let me know if you want me to kick his ass for you ok?

He seems to have skipped my house this year.

I know he's scared of me :)

Dana's Brain said...

Why does he always come in February too? Every year. Remember you have lots of friends out here to ward away the chill.

And on a side note - holy SHIT, woman! A vodkamom shout out! See, that's making up for the crappy Valentine's Day.

Vodka Mom said...

I heard we needed to kick some ass - did someone bring the munchies? I've got the drinks........

smiles4u said...

Sounds like it's time to kick some ass. Don't let him stay long.
You really did describe this so well. I hope you are feeling better soon. Warm hugs sent your way!

Zip n Tizzy said...

Brrr... Be strong!

Ms Picket To You said...

I HATE HIM! He always leaves his wine bottles around.

He forgets my number.

Call me.

Janie at Sounding Forth said...

Good positive music.
Good happy thoughts.
Zero fear.

He'll be gone in a jiffy!

Sue said...

I was lured over by VodkaMom to see what you were all about. Yup, I just spent the last 45 minutes reading all of your posts. I have no doubt that you will write a book. Or that you will kick February in the ass. I am guessing that you are on the North Shore and I am not sure if you have snow on the ground or not, but down here on the Cape it is brown. I know in another few weeks, some brave buds will start showing up and that gives me some hope that spring is within reach. :)

Lilly's Life said...

Hee Hee. Very clever. There is othign like an unwelcome visitor is there to unnerve you. I guess he will be passing my way in the coming months. Oh dread and horror. Can't you keep him there under lock and key???? By the way clever, clever writing.

Real Live Lesbian said...

I'm here from Vodka Mom as well. I like it here. Great stuff.

cIII said...

Two words:

Tiger Pit. (Figuratively speaking, of course. My "tiger pit" is a bottle of 12 year old Bourbon. Ha, ha! Take that Tigger! You bouncy-trouncy Fucker!)

Inhumane? yes.
Effective? yes.

Charmaine said...

I just started menopause and everytime you said, "the visitor" my mind kept crashing against the wall. hee hee.

Beautifully written. Love it. Also from Vodka Mom.

Kate Coveny Hood said...

Beautifully written - felt like I should be sitting by a campfire listening to ghost stories (although I'm not an outdoorsy sort - so maybe just a nice fireplace fire).

anymommy said...

Stoke the fire up really high, buy an excellent bottle of wine and let's tell the bastard to show himself out, okay?

I'll bring the chocolate.

Jen W said...

I hate uninvited visitors. Sometimes I just ignore it and don't answer my door. :)

heartatpreschool said...

Next time, listen to your dog. He's got your back.