The blogs on Area Voices are diverse in their coverage.  Some bloggers blog about sports or political issues, some blog about specific hobbies or interests, and others blog about life in general.  Some blogs are more journal like than opinion-based while others are meant more to highlight writing and photography prowess.

I realize more and more that my blog is a window into my life.  Some days that window is a curtainless one with the sunshine streaming in and others it is a window with thick blinds that only allow slivers of light in from the outside. If you have been reading my blog regularly over the months since I started it, you should probably have a real good sense of my personality and life.  Regular readers have undoubtedly concluded that I am a perfectly imperfect person who recognizes her fallibility but keeps striving to be and do better.  By now many of you know that I put a great deal of value in friends, family and laughter and all of those have been necessary elements through the years in dealing with life’s challenges and disappointments.

Today, three West Fargo PD cars came to my home carrying a total of four police officers.  Only two of the officers ultimately stayed thankfully, but the presence of the three cars and four officers even for the short period of time gave the neighborhood something to talk about on a Sunday morning.  The officers were here because I asked my husband to move his belongings out of my house.  My husband did some things that were not very nice, indeed that were very hurtful to me, and when it became apparent that there would be no remediation I asked him to leave.  That was Friday.  It has been a very stressful couple of days (actually it has been stressful for months, but these past couple of days have been nail-biting stressful).

I asked my husband to come and get his things today while my son Noah was here as I did not want to deal with the moving situation.  I was purposeful in jumping in the shower when I knew my husband was enroute (well, not jumping actually – but you get the point).  I took a long shower to allow myself as much avoidance as possible.  I got out of the shower to a ringing cell phone.  It was my daughter Sarah asking why police were at my house – her brother Noah had called her (it’s that Walkers thing I talked about earlier in the week – they are all on the page of current events in three minutes or less).  I knew immediately it was my husband inserting as much drama and embarrassment as he could into the situation.

Well, needless to say, I was horrified on a couple of fronts.  First, I was horrified that my husband had felt a need to utilize police resources in such a frivilous way for a situation that was already designed to be conflict-free.  Second, I was horrified to come out of the bathroom to see two police officers standing in my entry with their hands on their guns (which to be fair is the standard cop stance in situations where there may be trouble and I am sure my husband infused his telling of the situation with drama).  Thankfully they didn’t shoot me even though they must have been startled at the sight of my loveliness – wet hair, no makeup and in sweats.  I guess now I will have to send them a formal apology for unwittingly exposing them to that image.

If I had known that my husband would make such a huge event of the situation I would have showered, dressed up (a bit more than sweats to be sure), put on makeup and maybe even baked in preparation for the officers’ visit…but no – in true form he surprised me again with the level of drama he can insert into situations of his own making.  So what is left to do now but laugh about the whole situation?

Oh, there is one thing…actually a few things:

1) Friends, family, strangers, West Fargo PD – discourage me from ever marrying again please;

2) If you are planning on sending officers to my home give me at least 45 minutes notice (75 minutes if baked goods are required); and,

3) If you would like to contribute to the West Fargo PD Officers’ fund for the therapy they will need having viewed my loveliness, send checks to the West Fargo Police Department with “Carol-caused PTSD” in the memo line.

Day two hundred and sixty-six of the new forty – obla di obla da

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