REMEMBER THE AMMO?

Why does CRIME keep following me?  

You may remember my "Brush With the Law" from last summer---
http://thewendywatsonblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/mybrushwith-law.html
That was more than enough crime for me, I thought.  The universe disagreed, however.  I'd been working on a manuscript that involved Villains and Criminals (as well as Good Guys, of course) and my Friendly Muse must have decided that I needed some first hand experience to make my story more convincing.  

Thus:  One night this past summer during my travels, I was rudely awakened from a deep sleep at 2 am by the glare of an intruder's flashlight shining into my eyes.  Without thinking, and still half asleep, I leapt out of bed, yelling fiercely at the top of my voice, and chased the (equally startled) intruder out the back door.  I called 911.  By the time the police arrived, I had calmed down, and was able to observe---with great interest, actually---the procedures they followed.  I made mental notes, and when daylight arrived, took photos for further back-up reference material.

The police pointed out to me how the intruder had first tried to pry off the screen to a guest room window.

When that didn't work, the intruder cut the screen---and climbed in through the window.

The police found---and photographed---the footprint left by the intruder on the floor beneath the damaged window (can you see it?---left of center in the photo above).  They recognized it immediately as the print of a Converse sneaker.  All those detective stories I read really are on target!

Next the police dusted black fingerprint powder all over doorknobs, windowsills, and door jambs.  They also took my fingerprints---a first for me.  I was impressed by how thoroughly the police---4 of them---worked for several hours, gathering clues.

But then my Friendly Muse must have remembered how I and my work tend to find the humor in any situation.  The police had finished and gone, but the security guard for place was still bumbling around, trying to be helpful.  Since the intruder had come in through a lock-less patio gate, I asked the security guard if he could provide the gate with a lock. He trundled off happily.  After an absence of half an hour, he returned.  He didn't have any locks that would fit the gate, he said.  But he did have a solution.  He had prepared this twig specially, he said.  He jammed the twig into the latch.  That will keep you safe, he said.

Needless to say, when daylight came, I took these photos, packed up my belongings, thanked my Muse, and left.  I had enough research---and enough humor.  I didn't need any more.

SUMMER STUDIO, PART 2

It took longer than expected to accomplish all the organizing of my summer studio...but voila!  A functioning and useable space.  Except...after several days of trying it out, the desk still didn't seem to be in the right position.  More moving and rearranging...

...and this time, everything was just as it needed to be...

...with the final blessing of a rainbow on the day I finished.

SUMMER STUDIO, PART 1

When I drove north after my teaching stint at Hollins University, my jewel of a summer studio was waiting for me.  I had visions of diving into my work the day I arrived.  Except...

it seemed there was a bit of housekeeping that needed attending to before I could begin.

All the stuff I had brought East for teaching...

all the stuff that had been stored in the summer studio...

was there no end to it all?

Overwhelming.  No work could be accomplished in this mess, that's for sure.  Only one thing to do...roll up my sleeves and start organizing.

(To be continued...)