Silence is golden . . . sometimes

Ever been by yourself in the evening in the country, enjoying a good book, soaking in the tub, piddling (what a word!) around with a few chores, and heard a sound? A dog barking? A tree branch creaking? An unexpected crash? Scary. Silence, then, is not soothing and restful. It's loud. The silence of being alone.

Okay, you say. How can silence be loud?

I can't explain it. You have to experience it. I think it's more the knowledge that whatever happens (or doesn't) you're there alone, you have to depend on your smarts, your strength, yourself. You're not stupid enough to go bounding outside to see what made the noise. Instead, you hover near the window, peeking out into the dark world outside, straining to see that ghost, that weird peeking Tom, that stranger in the night. You make sure doors are locked, windows closed, phone is handy. Then you wait. And wait. And wait.

Your imagination is going full tilt ahead. All the scary stories you've ever read, the tales you've heard come bouncing back, crying "Aha. aha. We are real."

Yeah, right. It's about that time, I get tired of that dreadful silence and hightail it to bed. If all the things that go bump in the night want to have a heyday, they can do it without me.

I need my rest.


MW's tip:

Window Cleaner
12 to 16 ounces water
1/2 cup white or apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup rubbing alcohol (70%)
1-2 drops blue or green food coloring, if desired
1-2 drops lavender, cinnamon, clove or orange essential oil. Combine the ingredients and put into a labeled spray bottle.

Use newspapers rather than paper towels, because they leave no lint and you are recycling!

1. Spray the newspaper first, then wipe down the window to avoid drips.
2. Wipe vertically one side of the window and horizontally on the other side so you will know which side a streak is on!

This bottle of nice-smelling window cleaner can cost as little as 25 cents and also works well on mirrors or glass shower doors.

A quote for your enjoyment:
We need both: the joy of the sense of sound and the equally great joy of its absence. --Madeleine L'Engle

Blessings.