Last night at about 3 a.m., a squall line blasted through Charlotte County and shook us out of our beds. Between medicating (and worrying about) sick girls, and checking to see what was flying through the yard (hoping it wouldn't be a horse or cow) I searched for the source of the bumping noise. I looked in my closet, fearful that it was a cat scratching for a bathroom. Nope. I looked in the attic, since it seemed to be coming from there. Nope. I shined the spotlight around outside, looking for a loose object that was hitting the wall. Nope. This morning, I found the mystery noise that had never once let up on the thumping sounds. It's now completely detached and ready for Danny to conveniently climb to the highest room of the tallest tower to rescue his fascia in distress.
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