...the residents of my building here in DC, that is.

You see, I had just spent a wonderful evening with my 2 DC area granddaughters while their mom and dad had their "first date" as parents of two. So you know I was as sober as they come, drinking in only the sheer delight of M's soft baby skin, C's request for an additional hug and kiss at bedtime, and just the wonderful-ness that I didn't have to spend hours on a plane to get here. When the evening was over and as I headed toward DC, I delighted in my situation. So, yes, maybe I was "drunk" with delight. But oh well...

Anyway, arriving at home, I walked Jack and Marina and settled in for a short check of email and weather.com as they are predicting major snow for the northeast today.

Sleeping soundly and waking peacefully, I dressed quickly and prepared to take Jack and Marina out for their morning walk, but where were my keys?

[short pause here for you to reflect when/if this ever happened to you]

So I looked around in the usual spots and then said "uh-oh" to myself and found them at last, in my door, hanging their "shouting" for all to see, that entry to my apartment was easy and no-fuss.

Now, I have to admit that I've done this before back in Dallas, but then I lived in a second story condo in safe Farmers Branch, and anyone that wanted to discover this, would have had to walk up stairs. Here, in DC, it's another story.

First, it *is* DC, one of the crime capitals of America. Second, I live in a building with 28 apartments. 28 residents may have passed by my door as I'm the first one you pass by as you enter the building. They passed the test.

Now, I hope that I'll not do this again, but it's nice to know that this time, when I did, it was OK.