The Intruder

 I often get what my grandmother called 'wild hairs'.. 

That means that it's a completely ridiculous idea.

I think I tried this once before but my 'wild hair' died and I moved on.

It's back!!

                    I want to do Memory Monday again.

Some have told me they enjoy my stories. I hope you will enjoy these Monday tales.

So, here goes............

After my husband retired from his Navy career he moved the family to Alabama, out in the country, at the end of a dirt road. We could see one neighbor! 

The kids all grew up, moved out, and I became an empty-nester at the end of this road. Oh, BTW, it had been paved by then.

My husband loved to foxhunt, spending all night in the woods, spinning yarns with other hunters, listening to the hounds chasing a fox. And, that left me alone.

We had enclosed the carport and was using it as a bedroom. The head of the bed was under a high-up on the wall window at the front of the house. 

I was alone... dreading to go to bed. I don't do nighttime well. I see and hear buggers everywhere and if I screamed no one would hear me. 

Finally I crawl into bed and fall asleep. Awhile later, I am jolted out of my sleep by the sound of someone walking on the other side of that wall. I am petrified. I just know that somebody is about to break in. I lay there trembling, scared outta my wits but eventally get up enough courage to stand up on the bed and peer out the window. 

The moonlight wasn't bright, a quarter or half one I guess, but there was enough light for me to make out my 'intruder'. One of our cows had gotten out of the pasture. She was busy walking around just outside my bedroom, having herself a feast in my flower bed. 

           Some of our cows... I wonder which one was 'the intruder'?