So we semi-packed on Thursday, preparing to vacate the house for a few days while they did the floors. At about 3am, I heard a CRASH-CR-CRA-CRASH, leapt out of bed (while Jack slept) and started surveying all the rooms upstairs and down. Miraculously, I didn't see anything. And good thing, because I was actually able to get back to sleep. I had decided that what I'd heard was probably the dish drainer falling into the cement laundry sink downstairs (which happens amazingly often and is amazingly loud) but forgot to look at it when I wandered around. I was wrong. It was a portion of the basement ceiling falling down.