Two nights ago the humidifier, recently cleansed, was making godawful gurgling and snorting sounds, angry-like, the mechanism suddenly choking and gasping for breath like a thing being born. I gazed at it across the darkness. I only saw its little green light.

“My,” said Sara.

“I think it’s alright,” I said.

After a minute it quieted down. Everything was normal once again.

Last night there were fireworks for no discernible reason at all. Sara spied them out our bedroom window, out on the East River somewhere. Jackie was stil awake so we opened the curtain in her room and watched together. It was your usual, full-on display, big bursts and little twirling flares, a veil of smoke and then the grand finale. Jackie began to bark like a dog.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!” she said.