A couple of days ago a lumber yard in Hooterville caught fire and, despite the local fire department's best efforts, burned to the ground. The fire spread to nearby sawdust piles and, while the firefighters were able to extinguish the flames, the piles are still smoldering.
Last night, I awoke from a pretty deep sleep, convinced that the house was on fire. Apparently, I smelled smoke and my fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, waking me up in a total panic, which, caused Hugh to wake equally panicked. Once he was able to convince me that the smell was just the residual smoke from the saw pits, I was able to calm down enough to fall back to sleep, but, poor Hugh , whose fight-or-flight instinct is more finely honed than mine, thanks to his years in law enforcement, had a much harder time, and, he ended up being awake for quite a while.
I really don't have a point to this story, other than to point out that I am a better smoke detector than any electronic device in my household, which is both interesting and terrifying. Also, credit goes to my husband for not smothering me in my sleep when I passed out after completely ruining his slumber; that took a lot of self control and I speak from experience, considering the number of times I have contemplated holding a pillow over his face when his snoring woke me from a sound sleep.
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