![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jamjarI had a really nice time with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kabukivice, talking about Torchwood and fandom and good stuff, and then I came home and found:
1) The porch doors were locked. They're never locked, on account of, no-one has the key to them and they're so stiff, they're barely ever closed.
2) The alarm was going.
I couldn't get in, went round to my neighbours, who explained that someone (my little brother) had left something cooking, and the firemen had come round and had to break in. The thing is, we got the door frame and locks reinforced by the council, so they broke in by smashing the glass. I liked that stained glass. It sort of made a face, or possibly two faces, only it didn't, and it'd been there as long as I can remember and I don't know if we even have any pictures of what it looks like. But it's utterly smashed and in a pile of glass and twisted lead in the front garden.
The porch doors were locked and bolted, so we had to borrow- or rather, my neighbour borrowed- a long ladder from neighbours-across-the-way-that-we-don't-really-know, and the firemen had left the little window on the first floor unlocked, so I had to climb up the ladder, slide the window up and climb in. The ladder didn't quite reach the window, but close enough. The house is, minus the door, in one piece, but smells of burnt beans.
My little brother (not so little, 16 and on half-term), had done the dishes, the laundrey, put the beans on, forgot to switch them off, then gone up in to town to get me a birthday present and go to the cinema, which is why he wasn't answering his phone when people tried to call him. I can't even be proper mad at him, because it's just... it was an accident, one of those things, and he already knows it's his fault and feels bad, and it wouldn't help any
I can't get through to my parents on their mobiles or at the hotel they're staying at, and it could have been a lot worse, so I'm trying to keep a sense of perspective about this, but...
*FUCK*
kabukivice, talking about Torchwood and fandom and good stuff, and then I came home and found:1) The porch doors were locked. They're never locked, on account of, no-one has the key to them and they're so stiff, they're barely ever closed.
2) The alarm was going.
I couldn't get in, went round to my neighbours, who explained that someone (my little brother) had left something cooking, and the firemen had come round and had to break in. The thing is, we got the door frame and locks reinforced by the council, so they broke in by smashing the glass. I liked that stained glass. It sort of made a face, or possibly two faces, only it didn't, and it'd been there as long as I can remember and I don't know if we even have any pictures of what it looks like. But it's utterly smashed and in a pile of glass and twisted lead in the front garden.
The porch doors were locked and bolted, so we had to borrow- or rather, my neighbour borrowed- a long ladder from neighbours-across-the-way-that-we-don't-really-know, and the firemen had left the little window on the first floor unlocked, so I had to climb up the ladder, slide the window up and climb in. The ladder didn't quite reach the window, but close enough. The house is, minus the door, in one piece, but smells of burnt beans.
My little brother (not so little, 16 and on half-term), had done the dishes, the laundrey, put the beans on, forgot to switch them off, then gone up in to town to get me a birthday present and go to the cinema, which is why he wasn't answering his phone when people tried to call him. I can't even be proper mad at him, because it's just... it was an accident, one of those things, and he already knows it's his fault and feels bad, and it wouldn't help any
I can't get through to my parents on their mobiles or at the hotel they're staying at, and it could have been a lot worse, so I'm trying to keep a sense of perspective about this, but...
*FUCK*
