Remember Melanie, winner of the book from Pearl of Carol and finalist in the mainstream category, PNWA literary contest? Well, she is either getting fodder for her next manuscript—I’m thinking non-fiction, it will be all about how not to help your parents move from the East Coast straight into your own backyard—or she’s getting a reminder from God on why you should have appreciated the last few parental free decades.
Here are her reports:
Tuesday, 1:04 pm
The fire department is here, checking the alarms before the house can be sold. They asked my mother if she should call ADP first, but she said it wasn’t hooked up.
So, the fireman set off the alarms and ADT called and she can’t remember the password. We told them the fire department was here, but now it is too late. ADT already called the fire department, but ADT will not give Mom the code to stop the alarms. There are several alarms going off in every room.
It has been 20 minutes. The fireman just shut off power to the alarm system.
It is difficult to write.
Wednesday 1:32 pm
I’ve had no time to write, what with the alarms, the fire department, the three trips to the dump each day, the early morning trips to scavenge boxes, the trip to the liquor store to buy a small bottle of rum just so we could ask for boxes, etc.
[Sure, Melanie, just needed that box from the liquor store. Good thing it came with a full case of rum…]