just like Shel Silverstein
The last three-four days I noticed something very curious at bedtime and again first thing in the morning. From the windows at the back of the house—either of the two bathrooms or the glass door to the back porch specifically—I could see the snow-covered garden faintly illuminated by a nearly square patch of light, bisected by a shadowy cross. The first time I noticed I passed it off as a random artifact of moon or neighbors' floodlights, but as it continued to appear in just the same spot I began to wonder. Could it be from Harvey's nightlight? From lights left on in our basement? No in both cases. Increasingly puzzled, last night I took the time to actually study the shadow in an effort to discover, at least, what direction it was coming from. It was tough because the light was actually quite faint—which is why I only noticed it when all the lights were out in the house—but careful examination showed the light was definitely coming from our house. Knowing that for sure, it only took me a moment more to figure out the source: the attic light.
We only go into our attic to put things away or get them out, and it's only accessible via step-ladder and trap door; clearly, when the last batch of Christmas decorations went up I failed to shut off the light. Oops. At least it was only one bulb.
This is not exciting news to anyone except perhaps any neighbors of ours who wondered what vital project was afoot amongst our rafters (sorry to disappoint, guys!). But since the issue took up a small but significant portion of my first- and last-thing brain, I though I would share it here. We'll have something more interesting next time.