The night before last, G was headed back from the east coast with the two older girls. The plan was that I would have some clothes packed for everyone, then L and I would meet them somewhere along the way for dinner and we would all continue on to the marina and out to the island.

Poor L fell fast asleep on the couch waiting for their call. We opted instead for them to stop by the house, collect their clothes, and L and I would head out the next morning, Saturday, and meet them at the marina.

It was a great opportunity to get some work done on my writing.

Our house sits directly beside its twin, also built by our landlord and inhabited now by his accountant. She had initially purchased it as an investment, for rental income, but with her primary and another rental residence destroyed by Hurricane Charley, she's moved her extended family in.

They were out on their deck enjoying a barbecue. It seemed really loud. It sounded like they were on our deck. I imagined they had boarded our deck like pirates across a gangway. Then I heard and felt a large thump. Someone was having a party on our deck. When I gathered up the courage to peek out the sliding glass door, which I was sitting in front of, I saw a big, fat raccoon trying desperately to open the container of cat food L had left out earlier.

When he saw me through the glass, he took off. I went outside to bring in the cat food. He hadn't climbed down the railing like I figured and I surprised him coming around the corner. He ran right between my legs. I was lucky he didn't decide to take refuge under my skirt, climbing my legs like a tree.

The adrenaline rush boosted my word count substantially.