Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Tuesday, January 1, 2019

That Night

It will always be THAT New Year's...

To celebrate the squeaky-clean beginning of yet another year, I'm going to regale you with the tale of our most memorable New Year's Eve.
It's a heart-stopper. 
Really . . .
We spent the evening, much like millions of other people, happily celebrating with friends.
Eating wonderful food that someone else prepared. (My personal favourite.)
Playing games: Charades. Word scramble. Card contests.
And visiting.
Sometime after midnight, we senior citizens called it a successful, wonderful night and left for our respective homes.
Husby and I were safely in bed by 2:00 AM.
All was well.
All was not to remain well.
Just as we were both deeply asleep, someone pounded on our front door.
Pounded.
In my half-awakened state, it sounded frantic to me.
Frightened.
Panicky.
“Grant! Something's wrong!” I screamed, leaping from the bed and switching on lights as I sped down the hall.
Mentally, as I ran, I tallied where my kids and grandkids were. Who had stayed in for the evening and who might still be out.
One family, I knew, had taken their little girls to a friends' party.
They could conceivably still be out.
What's wrong? What's wrong?
I reached the front door, heart racing and breathing heavily.
I peeked out.
No one.
I opened the door.
The front step was echoingly empty.
I stepped out and peered around.
No one.
The night was quiet.
The street deserted.
Nothing moved.
I came back inside and shut the door.
Then I peeked out again.
What on earth...?
By this time, my Husby was also up.
Doing a circuit of the windows and doors.
No one.
We looked at each other.
Did another circuit.
Still no one.
Puzzled, I headed back to bed while Husby locked up again.
He soon joined me and almost immediately dropped back to sleep.
I didn't.
For the next two hours, heart still racing, my mind spun through every terrible, horrible thing that could ever befall a family that (at the time) numbered twenty-five.
It was a long night.
We survived it.
None of the terrible, awful things happened.
I know, because this crazy mom/grandma phoned everyone as soon as it was light this morning.
Two facts remain.
  1. Someone pounded on our door last night. The reasons remain obscure.
  2. Somewhere in our bed is my Husby's liver, scared out of him when I screamed.
Happy New Year.

To my friends: I will be away for most of January. 
Picture me snorkeling or lying on the beach in St. Vincent. 
Cause that's where Husby is taking me.
Mmmmmm...
I will be back periodically, depending on connectivity, but poetry Monday (which I totally missed yesterday) will be suspended.
Happy January! See you in February!
I'll miss you!

9 comments:

  1. What a freight! Enjoy your vacation and Happy New year!

    ReplyDelete
  2. You're more patient than I am, I would have called every family member at 2am.
    Enjoy your vacation. I'll miss you!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Oh, I am glad that no one pushed themselves into your house to harm you. Maybe they were checking to see if the house was empty so they could rob the house. And because you answered the door, they just left. In any case, I am glad you were unharmed (aside from beings scared and losing sleep). WHEW!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Happy New Year. Enjoy your time away. You will be missed but we will keep the light on.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I don't think I could have slept either, after an incident like that!

    Have a wonderful vacation, Diane. Happy New Year to you and all your family!

    ReplyDelete
  6. I never would have slept again, period! So, you are deserting us again for some fun in the sun? Enjoy.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Enjoy your vacation...you deserve it.....You know I've had that door banging in the middle of the night thing and I've come to the conclusion I was just dreaming and it woke me up...I'll stick with that explanation.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I would have had a heart attack if that happened here. Sounds like some drunk revelers were pranking you guys. Glad to hear you are finally relaxing on a beach somewhere. Enjoy!

    ReplyDelete
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Diane was born and raised on one of the last of the great old Southern Alberta ranches. A way of life that is fast disappearing now. Through her memories and stories, she keeps it alive. And even, at times, accurate . . .

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