Hub went out tonight to a social event at the Scandinavian Club. Every few months some of the men get together and cook up huge vasts of pea soup (thick as porridge, salty and full of ham chunks) with strong mustard on the side of the bowl, crispbread, Swedish Punsch (a lethal, arrack type clear liquor) and thin Swedish pancakes served with dollops of whipped cream and lingonberry sauce. They are incredibly tasty and definitely not diet food.

I’ve been home alone sewing like mad to get my homework finished for the big reveal of my three pairs of trousers on Saturday. When Hub went out, I put on the security alarm because if I’m upstairs with my head close to a whirring serger, I likely wouldn’t be able to hear the door or strange sounds. Our ratepayers association put out a message that there have been some suspicious cars in the neighbourhoods and a few break-ins a few weeks ago, so I wanted to be extra secure.

I took a break to make some peanut butter chocolate chip oatmeal cookies – some for my meeting tomorrow and some as a treat for Hub, who prefers sweets about as much as cheese. While I was waiting for the cookies to finish baking, I sat down at the desk in the kitchen to do some writing and I knocked over the big bread board that leans by the wall.

It hit the floor with a tremendous crash that scared the crap out of me. The security alarm immediately began screaming. Good grief, I’d forgotten that the alarm is so sensitive that any noise above average would set it off. The ear-splitting wha-wha-wha always paralyzes me for a few seconds. I shook myself back to the now and whipped down the hall. I entered my code to disarm it, then waited for the security monitor people to call. Things have certainly changed – it was a recorded message, not a real person. I guess the consoling point is that the Heart Bleed virus hasn’t put their system out of commission.

I rewarded myself with half a cookie.