Sometime in the last month, Fuzzy took the trash out before coming to bed and inadvertently left the garage door open. Now, our neighborhood is normally fairly save, and we do live on an interior street, but an open garage door is still in open invitation. The next morning, he noticed that one of the boxes was removed from the stack of Christmas stuff, but we didn’t notice anything missing.

Until today.

What happened today? Well, I was killing time waiting for Christine the pet sitter to show up for an interview, and I started putting the Christmas lights on the hedges. I don’t normally decorate this early (and they’re not turned ON, and won’t be before Thursday, except to test the timers), but we’re going away this year, and I want to enjoy my house all lit up. Besides, our neighborhood is very gung-ho about such things, and it’s fun to be part of it.

I’d purchased three new net lights to replace those I knew were damaged, but had planned to use last year’s one more time, along with the several strings of white lights and trunk wraps for the trees. The new stuff was all in place of course, having just been purchased on Friday.

The box with the old lights was gone. Missing. No sign of it.

Now, I’m grateful that nothing else was taken, because whoever took the lights (half of which didn’t work – we were keeping them for spare bulbs) didn’t take the $400 Santa collection or the three huge boxes of heirloom ornaments, but still, I hadn’t planned on replacing ALL the lights this year.

And so, when Fuzzy gets home we’ll be running to deposit a check, and then to Target to get more lights, and then we’ll come home and have grilled salmon and a nice salad and watch Heroes.

But that’s not really how I’d planned to spend the evening.

Well, not the Target part.

I don’t know what other people do on Sunday evenings, but we spend ours at PetsMart and the grocery store, where we spent more than ever on groceries, although, admittedly, some of them were things we don’t buy often, like hand soap for the kitchen sink, and bottles of lotion and bubble bath. Also, I was trying to stock the fridge so we could curl up on Wednesday night with movies, and not leave again til Monday, unless we choose to (we might go see August Rush, and we’ll probably drive through Prairie Lights.)

We came home, and I immediately put a load of underwear into the washer, which got me thinking. I like pretty underwear. I’m not so much into fine lingerie, though I have some pieces that are nicer than others, but while much of my collection is cotton, it’s pretty cotton.

It’s also color coordinating cotton. Yes, now you know – all of my underwear matches my outfits. Oh, I have old stuff with the elastic all scrungy that I wear during certain times of the month, but generally speaking, I wear bright colors that go with whatever else I’m wearing. Partly, this is a holdover from my grandmother, who always admonished us to make the bed “in case the house is robbed” and wear clean underwear “in case you’re in an accident.” Because, you know, thieves only attack messy houses, and EMTs leave you stranded if your underwear isn’t fresh.

My favorite red and black and grey striped bra recently died, and I’ve yet to replace it, so I’ve added that to my list of things I need. I also need two pairs of tights (red and black) to go with a jumper I bought. And bathing caps. And and and…

And I think the dryer just beeped, so I need to go rescue the underwear.