Okay, heart, you can calm down now

[miladygrey]

Yesterday afternoon, when Yeats got home, he found a sticky note on our porch, apparently having been blown off our door. It advised that a Justice of the Peace Court Constable had been by in reference to a pending matter in the JP Court, and to call the number below for further information. Naturally, Yeats got home after the Court closed for the day, so we spent a moderately anxious evening racking our brains to try and think of any kind of legal matter we might have inadvertently instigated. We're up to date on mortgage payments, we've paid all our taxes, we haven't yet annoyed our HOA with the dandelions and clover on our lawn...

I took the notice into work today and asked Anders to navigate the JP website on our behalf. A few minutes of searching found no legal matters under mine or Yeats' name, and once we deciphered the case number scribbled on the notice, we found that the matter is regarding the resident of House Number South Street We Live On, while Yeats and I live at House Number North Street. We are vastly relieved, I will owe Anders lunch or a pie or something, and now I get to call the JP Court at lunch and tell them that their constable can't read street signs.

This weekend, we shall grill meats, go see "Solo", and occasionally squee that it's now a mere month until we go to Ireland.

Reading Log: High Risk by Simona Ahrnstedt; Someone to Care by Mary Balogh; How To Be a Heroine by Samantha Ellis; The True Queen by Sarah Fine; The Lucky Ones by Tiffany Reisz