Just me and the sleeping children, and the darkness. Oh, and of course, the crickets. But then, there are also the occasional sounds of our porch deck being walked on, or the garage door being tap-tapped. Be calm, my imagination. This is why I want a dog. A big, big dog. Even if he proves himself to be entirely too friendly and hopelessly unwatchful, he would likely provide enough doggy noises to distract me from the less pleasant ones coming from outside.
I keep trying to convince myself that country women must grow accustomed to being occasionally manless at night, but from where I'm sitting that sounds impossible without happy pills. And this is with me safely holed up in the decoy structure. What bad guy is going to start with the garage? (Don't answer that-- expensive power tools, multiple vehicles. . . ) What happens when I'm alone at night in the big house with all of those windows and doors? Not even crickets to keep me company. It'll have to be two big, big dogs. No. Let's make it one dog for every 10 feet of floor space. That'd trip a person up, atleast, should the dogs prove themselves unable to muster up anything scarier than a few face licks.
With these pleasant thoughts on record it's bedtime. Sleep? Pfff! Not until my husband is occupying his side of the bed. The side nearest the door so he'll get it first when the bad guy comes up the stairs. (Come on ladies, you know that's why you sleep on the side you do!)
