Priorities

Tonight, when I pulled into the little alley-side driveway we share with our neighbor,  I saw that our garage door was partially opened.

Panic set in, due to the fact that we had a lot of garage break-ins in our neighborhood over the past year. My first thought? The bikes. The bikes!

Our very nice neighbor ran out in the cold winter night with just a t-shirt (well, pants, too, you goofballs; just no jacket, is the point), shouting, "I just got home and was starting to text you! Did you know your door was open?"

I did wonder if some burglar would be inside when I opened the service door. Nope. (Although as I'm typing, I realize I didn't check all the nooks and crannies.) And a quick glance told me that the bikes and skis were in place. I shouted out to the neighbor that all looked okay. (And now am also realizing I never properly thanked her.)

The door, oddly, took some work to get down and stay down, but it's down, and locked down. My fat tire bike remains locked in the garage sort of like Pee Wee's bike: tough for a quick grab, not difficult for someone as determined or jerky as Francis.

Gotta go double-check everything. And think about a better locking system maybe, than this clown.