When I drove home from school yesterday, I talked to Adam on the phone. He described his day and how he had spent it with his mom, two aunts, his sister and three cousins. He told me last week, two other cousins from Utah visited. His aunt Susie has never married and never had any children, but it tells a lot about the kind of person she is that her family has gathered around from across the country.
It was kind of a blustery day and I changed into pajamas right when I got home. Emma and I had dinner and cleaned the kitchen and then she went to her room and I went to mine. I turned off all the lights in the house after me and I decided I was a very close approximation of Ebenezer Scrooge.
Up Scrooge went, not caring a button for that. Darkness is cheap, and Scrooge liked it. But before he shut his heavy door, he walked through his rooms to see that all was right. He had just enough recollection of the face to desire to do that.
Sitting-room, bedroom, lumber-room. All as they should be. Nobody under the table, nobody under the sofa; a small fire in the grate; spoon and basin ready; and the little saucepan of gruel (Scrooge had a cold in his head) upon the hob. Nobody under the bed; nobody in the closet; nobody in his dressing-gown, which was hanging up in a suspicious attitude against the wall. Lumber-room as usual. Old fire-guard, old shoes, two fish-baskets, washing-stand on three legs, and a poker.
Quite satisfied, he closed his door, and locked himself in; double-locked himself in, which was not his custom. Thus secured against surprise, he took off his cravat; put on his dressing-gown and slippers, and his nightcap; and sat down before the fire to take his gruel.
(I didn't see any ghosts though.)
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