StoutAndBitter

So if you haven’t been following me around lately we had 12 cubic yards of dirt delivered about a month ago. Now, after many many days of shoveling, it’s all over.

Before:

After:

Sunday, July 19th, a day that will live in infamy. We went out driving around western Washington, went to Sequim to the lavender festival. All was going well, until our drive home. My dad calls, we shoot the breeze for a bit about random stuff, then he tells me my grandma died. Shocked to say the least, but she wasn’t doing well and we knew this time would come. I call my brother, make arrangements to fly home and then sit for 2 hours waiting for the ferry back to the main land. Tara and I shared some ice cream which seemed to make the news a bit less harsh. We get home, exhausted from the heat and the drive. Pull into the garage, unload the car, walk into our basement and find broken glass all over the floor. A quick look around and we see the door open. Yep, we’ve just been robbed. Panic sets in as we fumble dialing 911. We both go outside, on the phone with the police, they say that they’ll be there, but not sure when. In an effort to see what they took, I grab a brick and head inside. For the most part, everything is intact, then I get to the bedroom. Drawers pulled out of the dresser, jewelry and Tara’s things tossed around like a sale at Ross. I spin around and make my way back down the hall, trying to put all of this together in my head. I just couldn’t process anything, it seemed fake, like I was just overlooking missing things. I glance into the office, laptop, gone. I get to the living room, TV, gone. All the doors were open in the kitchen, which didn’t make much sense to me. I run back downstairs, most of my things are untouched, so I go back outside to wait. Tara and I fan out, talking to neighbors, asking for help, anything that would answer questions. Finally someone say’s “Hey, are you missing a TV?” We get excited and run over. Turns out the little bastards that did this couldn’t carry the TV over all the fencing. They ditched it in someones yard (broken of course). Then someone says something about seeing 3 kids carrying all this stuff. We started to get a picture of our burglers. Three kids that had nothing better to do on a Sunday afternoon than break into someone’s house. They were so weak, they couldn’t carry the TV, and small enough to fit through one of our broken out windows. We chat a bit more with neighbors, then go back waiting on the police. We get back to the house, we both look at eachother and we say the same thing “Where’s the cat?”. Back inside we go, no brick this time. I get a few feet inside the door, we call him, and he sticks his little head around a corner with the look of “Thank GOD it’s you guys”. We make sure he’s OK, and go back outside for the police. After a longer than normal wait, they showed up. We retell the story, they find fingerprints and take them to the station. They file a report, we have paperwork to fill out, then the phone calls started. Banks, insurance, parents, brothers, etc. Things calm down a bit and the cleaning begins. Tara takes over the room, I get some 2x4s to put over the window. I run upstairs and Tara is going through moments of joy, followed by moments of torture. They didn’t take any of her jewelry. Odd, but awesome, I’m down with that. Thankfully I have a secondary laptop downstairs and I go about changing all my passwords, just in case they try to use the laptop they stole. We find out what they took, Tara’s bag, a strong box (that contained our passports and other docs), the laptop and the TV. The emotional rollercoaster and paranoia that set in after that is indescribable. We had every light in the house on, and we kept checking outside to see if anyone was around. We took rotating naps, mostly because neither of us could sleep. At around 4am, we finally made it into bed, though we didn’t sleep. The ice maker would kick on, we’d wake up. Someone outside would close a car door, we’d wake up. I was angry, then sad, then feeling totally violated by what had happened. I still look outside, in between sentences, to see if someone is lurking, waiting to get in.

The day after:
Today we’re on the phone most of the day. ADT, Brinks, Contractors, Banks, Work, you name it we called them. We have ADT coming tomorrow morning to put in a new security system. I’m going to roll my own video surveillance setup, but I had to make sure the security system is butter. Big T’s contractor stopped by and gave us a rundown of stuff we can do to the windows. Lots of calls to family to keep everyone updated. I had to cancel my trip back to PA for my gram’s funeral, which totally sucks, but I’m damned either way. If I go home, then I get to see family and friends, though I’ll be worried about the house the entire time, so it will just be a mess. I make some lunch, and we’re hanging out when we hear a knock at the door. I look out the window and see the Seattle PD. I swing the door open, without saying a word he brings new hope and joy into our lives. He’s holding our passports!!! I start cheering, Tara lights up, the officer has no idea what’s going on and it’s a moment of awesomeness. Turns out the rat bastard kids that did this decided to go through the stuff they took a few blocks away. They dumped out everything and someone else found it and called the cops. With great joy and excitement we went through all the stuff that was returned to us. Passports, check books, some other random stuff that was in there, and Tara’s keys. It was great to see something that you never thought you’d see again. Now I just wish they’d catch the kids that did this.

-C