Silent Night

In the early hours when the dogs and I arise, we try our level best to quietly go about our morning routine. Carol sleeps several hours later than we do and she doesn't appreciate loud noises interrupting her favorite time to snooze.
Unfortunately, every little thing seems to make a lot of racket when the house is still and quiet. When I try to gently set the coffee pot on the kitchen counter it somehow makes a loud clunk. The drawer that holds the measuring cups squalls like a banshee when I open it. When I open the back door to go outside with the dogs, the wind catches the storm door, pulls it out of my hand and slams it. In the meantime the dogs have found something that requires some serious barking, so I do my best to quiet them down and get them back inside.
After giving them a bacon treat for being so good, and after stepping on one of their squeaky toys that squeals like a pig, I start making a fire in the fireplace. I quietly unlock the front door and go out to the carport for some firewood and some kindling. Coming back in with my arms full, a piece of Alder slips and falls to the tiled entry floor. I can always tell a good, dry piece of firewood by the crisp, hollow banging noise it makes when it echoes in our entry. Cussing, I lean over to pick it up and a piece of Douglas Fir falls beside it. (It also sounds dry and ready to burn.)
I have a system for building a foolproof fire in our fireplace insert which requires two side logs, a back log, and some kindling on top of an empty Franzia wine box. All that's left is to crumple up a couple of sheets of newspaper to stuff underneath and to light it.
For some reason crumpling newspaper in the daytime hardly makes any noise, but early in the morning when I'm trying to be stealthy and quiet, it sounds like someone pouring a large bag of marbles into the kitchen sink.
After the fire is going and the coffee has perked, I go in the den, turn on the computer and click on the dial up modem icon. A blast of whistles, beeps, honks and whines come out of the surround sound speakers, but by the time I get the volume turned down the horrendous noise is over and the computer is connected to the Internet. While I'm reading email and surfing my favorite web sites, things quiet down and even the dogs go back to sleep.
When my coffee cup runs dry I leave the den to get a refill and check the fire. It needs another log so I open the cast iron door and toss a hunk of Fir on top of the coals, but before I can close it, the fire alarm goes off and the dogs start barking uncontrollably. (I'd forgotten to open the damper before opening the door.)

Oh! Hi Honey! Are you up already?