I awoke this morning believing I would suffer from sleep deprivation. To my pleasant surprise, it wasn’t so. Why the fear of being a zombie on this first day of the new year?
Because last night in our Princeton, Texas, neighborhood my bride and I — along with Toby the Puppy — were treated to a serenade of rockets bursting in air.
Which begs the question: I could swear I read somewhere that fireworks are forbidden inside the Princeton city limits, not to mention in our neighborhood, which is managed by a homeowners’ association. I mean, if the city ain’t gonna bust ya for blasting ’em, the HOA surely would do so. Right?
Not even close.
We turned in early last night, not wanting to watch the foolishness at Times Square in NYC. I had hoped for a good night’s sleep. Didn’t happen.
Our neighbors decided to blast away. Our puppy has quite a fear of loud noises, which means he hates the sound of fireworks. I don’t share that fear, but I do like to sleep when it’s time to turn in.
Well … that was then. The good news is that I did wake up this morning. The alternative was, shall we say, not acceptable.
To my neighbors out there who are disposed to blasting those damn fireworks, I just ask them to respect the wishes of those who live nearby who don’t care to join you in the revelry.