A brick through the window

This must be the year of house intrusions. I got back from work in the early afternoon, eager to go on a quick errand to procure butternut squash and to return here and collapse for a very long nap before a quiet evening of soup-making. I found the cat hiding in the bedroom closet, and in the other bedroom, which is my study and which faces the back yard, the window broken and a brick and dirt on the floor.

There was glass all over the room. The window wasn't fully broken, because it is a jalousie window (I just learned that's what it's called -- I used to refer to it as a-window-that-works-like-window-blinds), but enough of it was, and the screen that had been behind it was halfway across the room. No one had broken in and entered, but the crime was intentional: there was a chair outdoors, below the window, and there are no bricks near the house.

The chair usually lives about 40 yards away on the side of the house, with another plastic chair and outdoor table.

When I see or hear about bricks through the window, I think "hate crime," but this did not seem to be one - more likely a failed break-in. It's possible I pulled into the driveway during or right after the person threw the brick through the window. Or they may have looked in the study and thought "boooooooooooring!" There are no fancy toys there. My laptop was with me at work, and the fax machine and printer are very basic. Just lots of books and papers and files, icons, and on the desk, a Bible and a book on Julian of Norwich and a bunch of notes and a few student papers and a bunch of paper mess and a few flash drives. There was original art on the wall above the desk but if you don't know from lithographs, you don't know that.

Of course I phoned the police and my landlady, and I have had two visits from the police, in both cases very nice officers, one man and one woman, the first to check things out and ask me basic questions and assign a number to the case, the second a crime scene investigator (yup, my very own CSI, not that I ever wanted one, and thank Godde it wasn't worse) who photographed and dusted for prints and asked questions.

A neighbor whom my landlady phoned says he saw a kid (by which he meant a teenaged boy or young man) cutting through from my yard to his (there are no fences) and definitely not from the immediate neighborhood, three days ago. He thinks that it was probably this kid (or maybe another kid) who threw the brick, it being a day when school was out and adolescents are bored or looking for loot. His house was broken into a while back. (I forget whether he said six months ago or six years ago. I think maybe six months. I was still a little rattled.) My house was not.

The yoga mat, however, is no longer usable. I'd left it flat on the floor of the study instead of rolling it up as usual since I knew I would be home early with some quiet and I wanted to remind myself to do some good stretches and take some time for some asanas, on this first day of finally-having-time-and-space, the first half day of Thanksgiving break.

So much for quiet life in the suburbs. In the city, people are bunched close together and I have never had any break-ins -- not that I haven't been careful and locked my door, I have, but 90% of the time I have lived on the 2d floor or higher. Living on the first floor is another story, one worries more. Anyway, no robbery and no big damage. It did rattle me a little.

Of course the window break made it possible for +Maya to make a run for it once she got out of the closet and saw the coast was clear, and she has escaped three times already, but she knows on which side her bread is buttered and has always come back a minute or two later. Now she is out again --she was quicker than I-- and I have almost finished my makeshift window repair with much dark plastic and duct tape, and she had better come back in through that window as she did twice, or through the front door as she did once. {...Interruption to talk with a friend on the phone...} Ah, she has returned. As I said, she knows on which side her bread is buttered despite the lure of the great outdoors (where she is not supposed to go, but an open window is a great temptation).

Now we are all safely at home, +Maya is not too traumatized (she did snuggle in my arms purring for a very long time while the second police officer was here, but she was purring and not hiding) and I am okay. I have gone to buy the squash, since I am making butternut squash soup tomorrow (it ain't gonna happen tonight) and after a resolution to save money and calories and not buy any more chocolate from this month onward, I did purchase one large bar of fair trade organic dark chocolate with cocoa nibs and ate some of it, and it was good.

The landlady and her home-repair-gifted husband had already decided they'd come through town tomorrow, so they may fix the windows then, or maybe the next day.

Life on campus was a bit less private, but there were Campus Security people patrolling the place all the time and I felt very safe in my house. This is more quiet but obviously more exposed to the risks of life in the U.S. of A. Well, could have been worse. Probably a good thing I am a boring intellectual church lady with no fancy electronic toys. Or that I pulled into the driveway when I did.

Have a good Thanksgiving holiday, everyone, and remember Native peoples for whom Thanksgiving Day is a Day of Mourning, and refugees everywhere who have been displaced, often violently, from their homes and their land. And enjoy the food, friendship, and family too! (It is possible to do both of these things - remember and feast.) I will write a short foodie post in the next 24 hours inviting your participation, of the share-your-menu sort.