Just plain weird

     This is one for the books. Maybe I'm just cracking up. Last night, or early this morning I got up for a bathroom visit. It was getting light. I know it sounds silly but I have three clocks in the jon. One I have sitting on a ledge going in is a mantel clock that I am working on. It generally keeps excellent time and it has a chime that can be heard downstairs. I have it about ready for resale. The second clock is located on the wall beside the shower and theres a small one on a chest of drawers that I sat there, having no place else it put it. Anyway, as I started to leave the bathroom I checked the clocks to see if I had time for a few more winks. One clock said 7, one said 10 and one said 3. So I have a lot of clocks not working....right? I went back to bed and the clock on the stand beside the bed said 6:30. I figured it probably was about 6:30 so I went back to sleep. Oversleeping a bit, we got up at 8 or a few minutes after. I told my wife what had happened and she said "You just need one clock in there anyway". Like that solved the problem. Got dressed and returned to the bathroom to shave. All three clocks read the correct time within three minutes of each other. My wife swares she didn't get up at all last night and certainly didn't reset the clocks. So, here again, what happened?

Heavy walking and stamping

    Last night was one for the book. The day before Thanksgiving and everything was basically ready for the big day. Evening found us relaxing in our usual manner. My wife was talking with friends on the computer and I was half watching TV and doing some sketching. The dogs were in the Library with my wife, half asleep, between the computer and the doorway to the Den where I was located. My wife got up from the computer and walked to the Den doorway. She said "will you turn off the sound?" This seemed strange to me as I didn't think the TV was loud enough to even be much heard in the Library, but I turned down the sound. "Whats up?" I inquired. "Listen" she replied. Sure enough it sounded like footsteps, or rather hard soled bootsteps on a wooden floor. "Wheres that coming from?" I asked. "Sounds like upstairs", she informed. No bare wooden floors on the second story of our house, all are wall to wall soft carpet. I said I'd investigate and headed for the stairs. My wife and dogs remained downstairs. The sound of steps walking and stopping and stamping continued. As I went upstairs the sounds became clearer, louder. Unlike other times when the walking sounds lasted from a few seconds to perhaps as long as 30 seconds, these were continuing. I determined they were coming from the attic. Brave soul that I am, I armed myself with a 44 mag revolver and a big flashlight. The steps and stamping continued right up to the moment I opened the attic door. Then everything was silent. Cautiously I  made my way up the old narrow attic stairs. At the turn in the stairs, on the landing, I stopped and pointed the light around, but still being below floor level, it didn't help much, so I went on up.  There is one 40 watt bulb in the attic and it has to be screwed in to light (the string broke some time ago.) Carefully making my way over to the bulb I screwed in the light. The light is dim in that big attic and mostly just cast shadows. The light does not penetrate the larger section of the attic which is walled off except for a doorway. I figured that if someone was up there I had better search the lit part first. Like most attics, ours is filled with stuff too good to throw away but not good enough for much use. A 12 foot Christmas tree for example and an ancient kiddie car I had as a kid. I have pathways through the attic and I took each one until I was satisfied there was no one in that part. There are only two ways into the attic. Through the door at the foot of the stairs which we keep locked with a slide bolt (thats because my wife believed bats were pushing through to get down into the house) and the hatch to the roof which is also locked from the inside with two slide bolts (when we first moved here the hatch blew off a couple of times during bad storms, so now its locked). I checked the hatch and it was still solidly locked. That only left the large front half of the attic. Frankly, this time, I was feeling pretty darn sure we had an intruder some way. Moving into the front section I played the flashlight around all walls and ceiling, the flashlight is one of those new 80 light digitals and it was like a spot light, it lit the attic room. But I have items stored in there in rows up almost to the ceiling, so I needed to walk those isles until I covered the attic area. I found absolutely nothing. Returning and going downstairs my wife and the older grey dog were at the foot of the stairs, she had a moveable gate across the stairs because she said the dog wanted to come up where I was and she was afraid I might shoot him. I was tense, but I really don't think I was that tense. I asked her if she saw or heard anything after I went up to the attic. She said she heard me walking around but that was all. Laugh if you wish, but something like that can really get to you. What in blazes was it? A big mystery in the strange old house.

Strange Orange Nail Polish

   For the past few nights my wife has complained of insomnia. There is a medicine she sometimes takes for it, but we were out of it and so were the stores in town. So I know she didn't take anything before turning in. This morning I woke up way late. I was so late I almost missed church. Barely having time to dress, I made it just before the service started. When I got home, I mentioned to my wife how late I awoke. She said,"I haven't slept so well in weeks. Then she said, "Funny thing is, when I got up and started dressing I saw bright orange fingernail polish on my thumbnail and it was worn through to the nail in the center and I had orange flakes all down the front of me." I said she must have been using orange paint in her crafts. No, she replied, I haven't used orange paint on anything in months. "Besides, I would have seen it last night when I was washing up." That makes sense to me. But where did it come from and only on one thumb. Strange....really strange.

An experience from a long time ago

     Something brought to mind an incident that my wife and I experienced around 30 years ago. This did not take place here as we had not yet purchased this house. I had been teaching school in this area for three years and my wife and I decided to move here. We had been house hunting for some time. We wanted a big old house in the country with a little ground around it. My wife constantly scanned the local papers for property for sale. Finally, one night, an ad caught her attention. This all happened about 30 years ago, but the events, upon reccollection, seem more like just a few weeks ago. We made arrangements to see the house and got directions to it. The house was located in the middle of nowhere on a lonely but well maintained dirt road. As we drove the road, the countryside was beautiful and when we saw the house we decided then and there that it was the very thing we were looking for. A very stately New Empire brick sitting in the center of a 12 acre tract. The nearest neighbor was at lest a half mile down the road. The owners of the house warmly welcomed us and insisted on showing us the lay of the land. We were sold, I couldn't wait to make a deal. Upon entering the house it seemed we had gone back in time. The interior was very similar to those old movie sets of the old southern mansions. I couldn't believe it was in our price range. The rooms were huge, the ceilings were high and graceful doreic columns seperated the parlour and dining room. Natural wood floors still shone with almost just laid beauty. Large fireplaces, ornately decorated were found in each room. All had been closed to conserve heat in a modern heating system except the one in the Parlour which was still in use. We were totally sold. I asked the gentleman who owned the house why he was selling. He said his wife was poorly and the Doctors couldn't determine her problem. They suggested a warmer climate. My wife and the lady of the house were discussing the Library just off the Parlour and couldn't have heard our conversation. Finally the lady said, my husband will show you the upstairs, I'm rather tired. The grand stairway could have been straight out of Gone with the Wind. It curved up from the foyer in the front hall, curving both left and right as it made its way to the second floor. A huge, probably 12 foot or better, window set above the front door, it had a curved top and totally illuminated that staircase. We started up, about halfway up I got an eerie feeling, I can't to this day explain just what it was, but I shook it off as silliness and continued up the stairs. When we reached the second floor the gentleman said there are 5 bedrooms, one grand bedroom, two guest bedrooms and two for children. My wife almost ran through those rooms. I thought they were georgeous, she could wait to go back downstairs. The man suggested we go to the attic, as it was finished and had several fantastic views of the land outside. Said it was really beautiful in the fall. My wife thanked him but declined. She then asked if there was a rear staircase. Yes, he said, but it is rather narrow and just leads back down into the kitchen. She wanted to see it anyway. We went down those rather dark, narrow, stairs to the kitchen, where my wife thanked the owners for the tour and said we'd get back to them. We headed straight for the car. "What on earth is wrong?",I asked. She looked at me like I was nuts and said, You mean you didn't feel anything when you went up those stairs? "Funny you'd say that, I replied, But I thought it was just my imagination." She shuttered,"There is something extremely evil there." I wouldn't go back up those stairs if they GAVE us the place." The house is killing her you know?" I knew enough not to question it. As we drove back we stopped at a little ramshackle grocery and filling station for a cold drink. While I was in the store I mentioned the house. "The old XXXX house, yeah thats some place," Built by a local politician who hanged himself in the Foyer. A lot of people have looked at it, but as far as I know noone has even made an offer." Here is a case where my wife is far more sensitive to the paranormal than I am. But I guess women normally are. Shortly after that we bought this house, just as old but only a single acre and in a small village.

Halloween

Halloween, Samhein ,Saween, etc. has come and gone for another year. The house was characteristically quiet again for the spooky period; except for the approximately 380 trick or treaters I treated. The Fire Station had its annual bash for the kids and numerous parents and fire fighters patrolled the village to see that the kids had a safe and good time. Elections are drawing close and the house usually becomes active shortly after elections. Not certain why but have often thought that perhaps it was because the builder of this house was both a State Representative and later a Congressman and must have participated in several elections..but who knows.