Sunday Scribblings
Welcome to our show! Today's special guest is...oh, let's see, I've lost the card...Oh yes, here it is! Today's special guest is a mother, a librarian, a wanna-be writer...Let's welcome...ME!
**applause...applause***
Thanks so much for being here today!
Thanks for asking me to be here today
It has been a long time since your last visit
Yes, way too long
So what's new in your life? Any special projects?
Well~I have to wash the dog, do about 1000 loads of laundry...
Sounds delightful!
Oh and wash the car!
Excellent, excellent...I see here on my card that you have been writing.
Yes, I am doing the whole"blog for 30 days" thing
Oh! I heard about that! Everyone is doing it!
Well...my blog is different from the others!
**awkward silence**
**crickets**
And OK then. So are you writing anything else?
I am doing some technical writing. And getting paid .02 each to select titles.
That makes you a "published author" then, doesn't it
**canned laughter**
I can see by the clock on the wall we only have few moments left. Have you been doing any traveling?
Oh YES! I just returned from lovely St. Petersburg, FL where I spent an extensive amount of time at the Raymond A. Naimoli Baseball Complex. I also was on tour with a delightful group of musicians and we played two different footballs stadiums on consecutive Friday Nights.
Sounds like a wonderful experience! Well, we are out of time-until next time. Won't you come back soon and tell all about your exciting career?
Oh! I have such an riveting tale about the snakes in the library!
We look forward to hearing all about it.
And join us tomorrow when our guest will be the traumatized maids who had to clean the hotel room that smelled like feet and ass after the teen age boy baseball players left. A sad, terrifying tale~Don't miss it!
Until then, Drive Safe and don't forget...the middle finger is the universal symbol for "Hey! I respect your skills behind the wheel!"
Showing posts with label sundayscribblings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sundayscribblings. Show all posts
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Friday, July 18, 2008
No, Seriously, the House was Haunted
sundayscribblings.blogspot.com
I grew up in a haunted house. REALLY. I mean it. Spooky, creepy, weird things happened there the entire time I lived there and beyond. When we first moved in, a man's voice (no men living there at the time) came from behind my Mom in the dark basement and said "Get out." When she turned the light on, no one there. Mom heard a crying girl child often, and it was never one of us. Things moved and disappeared all the time. Once, when I was alone in the house and was waiting for my Dad to pick me up, I was sitting in the living room. As I watched, all the pictures in the room began to watch me. Eyes moved, smiles became (for lack of a better word) satanical. The frames began to move across the table they were sitting on. It makes my pulse quicken even 30 years later. By the time my Dad got there, I was hysterical. The night my aunt died, all the clocks in the house stopped at the time of her death. Some day I will get my brother to tell about his experience one night (as an adult living in the house) with the black cat and the man in the black hat...
But the most "haunted" part of the house was the upstairs bedroom shared by me and my sister. "Someone" walked up and down the stairs at all hours of the day and night. The door to the stairwell opened and closed constantly all on its own. Lights turned off and on, voices called, things disappeared and turned up there....all kinds of creepy, scary but really harmless stuff from the "other side".
I lived in the house from ages 10-19, then moved to Florida. The phenomena still occurred after I left and even upon my return for visits. One day, maybe 5 years or so after I had left, the Ghost and I had a showdown. I had never really felt threatened in the house as a child, but as an adult, the bedroom became more sinister. My parents had renovated the room, moving closets and such, and I had a feeling Ghost was not amused~but I seemed to be the only one to notice. I was OK during the day, or to be up there to watch TV after dark, but it got to the point that I would sleep in the basement or my brother's old bed because I could feel the classic "something's under the bed" creepies. One afternoon, as I sat alone in the house reading the paper in the kitchen, the door began to open. I pretended to ignore it, just watching out of the corner of my eye. It closed a little hard. Opened further, stayed open for a minute or so, then slowly creaked closed. Someone wanted my attention and this went on for several minutes. Finally I closed the paper, turned to the door and said, "Do you want to discuss this?" The door opened wide and stayed opened. "Fine. I have been dealing with you for a while now and I am kind of over it. I don't like being scared, and I don't think you have ever meant us any harm, but lately you are a little creepy. So I have decided I am not going to be afraid of you." The door moved a little, like it was making up its mind. Then it slammed hard enough to rattle the windows. I jumped, but kept my cool, opened the paper and started to read again, but still watching. The door opened wide. It stayed that way for several minutes, then slowly, quietly, it closed. "Thank you, my friend.", I said. I never saw the door open again.
Before you go all skeptic on me, I will tell you that the door latched firmly. It moved all times of the year, so it can't be blamed on the furnace and we didn't have central air. It happened with windows opened and windows closed. It happened with old crank out casement windows and brand new tight fitting storm windows. It happened day and night. So, believe what you want, but I know, for a fact, that my house was haunted.
I grew up in a haunted house. REALLY. I mean it. Spooky, creepy, weird things happened there the entire time I lived there and beyond. When we first moved in, a man's voice (no men living there at the time) came from behind my Mom in the dark basement and said "Get out." When she turned the light on, no one there. Mom heard a crying girl child often, and it was never one of us. Things moved and disappeared all the time. Once, when I was alone in the house and was waiting for my Dad to pick me up, I was sitting in the living room. As I watched, all the pictures in the room began to watch me. Eyes moved, smiles became (for lack of a better word) satanical. The frames began to move across the table they were sitting on. It makes my pulse quicken even 30 years later. By the time my Dad got there, I was hysterical. The night my aunt died, all the clocks in the house stopped at the time of her death. Some day I will get my brother to tell about his experience one night (as an adult living in the house) with the black cat and the man in the black hat...
But the most "haunted" part of the house was the upstairs bedroom shared by me and my sister. "Someone" walked up and down the stairs at all hours of the day and night. The door to the stairwell opened and closed constantly all on its own. Lights turned off and on, voices called, things disappeared and turned up there....all kinds of creepy, scary but really harmless stuff from the "other side".
I lived in the house from ages 10-19, then moved to Florida. The phenomena still occurred after I left and even upon my return for visits. One day, maybe 5 years or so after I had left, the Ghost and I had a showdown. I had never really felt threatened in the house as a child, but as an adult, the bedroom became more sinister. My parents had renovated the room, moving closets and such, and I had a feeling Ghost was not amused~but I seemed to be the only one to notice. I was OK during the day, or to be up there to watch TV after dark, but it got to the point that I would sleep in the basement or my brother's old bed because I could feel the classic "something's under the bed" creepies. One afternoon, as I sat alone in the house reading the paper in the kitchen, the door began to open. I pretended to ignore it, just watching out of the corner of my eye. It closed a little hard. Opened further, stayed open for a minute or so, then slowly creaked closed. Someone wanted my attention and this went on for several minutes. Finally I closed the paper, turned to the door and said, "Do you want to discuss this?" The door opened wide and stayed opened. "Fine. I have been dealing with you for a while now and I am kind of over it. I don't like being scared, and I don't think you have ever meant us any harm, but lately you are a little creepy. So I have decided I am not going to be afraid of you." The door moved a little, like it was making up its mind. Then it slammed hard enough to rattle the windows. I jumped, but kept my cool, opened the paper and started to read again, but still watching. The door opened wide. It stayed that way for several minutes, then slowly, quietly, it closed. "Thank you, my friend.", I said. I never saw the door open again.
Before you go all skeptic on me, I will tell you that the door latched firmly. It moved all times of the year, so it can't be blamed on the furnace and we didn't have central air. It happened with windows opened and windows closed. It happened with old crank out casement windows and brand new tight fitting storm windows. It happened day and night. So, believe what you want, but I know, for a fact, that my house was haunted.
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