Ghosthunters

When Minnie decided to advertise the Lilac Bower as a haunted house, we both got more than we bargained for.  How were we to know that actual paranormal investigators would show up?  We both expected people who would be excited by some creaky doors and flickering lights.

So when the paranormal investigators showed up with cameras, thermometers and digital voice recorders, we knew we were in trouble.  Minnie because her advertising scheme was in trouble and me because I had no idea what the investigators do on a ghost hunt. I doubt they sit around and wait for a ghost to jump out and say Boo!

Luckily, some local investigators were making a presentation at our library and I could do some research.  They explained the tools they use and what those gadgets are supposed to detect.  It was all very interesting and exactly what I needed to learn until they started talking about places they had investigated and what they had found. Most were safely hours away from my home.  Their ghostly figures, weird shadows and hair-raising voices could stay safely in my mind's mythology.

Until the last place they talked about.  It is a mere block away from my house and I can see it from the window above my writing desk.  There wasn't anything terrifyingly haunted about the place except that Al Capone may have slept there.  The occurrences were more along the lines of the jukebox turning itself on and off and people just having an unsettled feeling while there.  They felt creepy and uncomfortable while inside. (Which would probably explain the string of businesses that opened and closed in the building since we moved to town.) I only went inside once to a consignment shop that was there briefly.  I don't remember feeling odd, but I know that I didn't buy anything.

And yet, as I walked home that night - alone and in the dark - I couldn't help but wishing I didn't have to walk so close to the building.

P.S. For anyone who likes to get the heebie-jeebies...The building is for sale.

Water, Water, Everywhere

This morning in the shower, I realized that I have been working with water, flowing or not flowing, in so many areas of my life during the last month.

The obvious area is the potty training where water appears and does not appear at surprising interludes, but I have been meaning to mop the kitchen for quite some time and now I am taking care of that little by little.

Another area is our street.  The city is installing new water and sewer mains, so the street has been closed for the last month and our driveway inaccessible by any vehicle without tracks. Positive points: Our relatively - for a small town - busy street has been traffic free The majority of the traffic has been front-end loaders, dump trucks and excavators much to my son's entertainment.  Driveway inaccessible - not so much fun, especially when you need to go anywhere with three carseat age children and you need to carry more than your purse, diaper bag and the baby down the block to the street where you must park.  The other frustration of the construction was the unspecified water outages.  No warning, just no water.  It'd only be out for an hour or two, but I usually discovered it after cleaning up after the dogs in the backyard and turning on the tap to wash my hands.

And then as art must mirror life... in the novel I am working on the main character is having plumbing problems of structure altering proportions.  My husband in now fielding questions about where a pipe could break to cause disastrous flooding and how long it would take for ankle-deep water to pool on the floor and would the water seep through the floorboards to the rooms below and... I hope he appreciates how much I rely on his intelligence.

Of course, I discovered all these water connections while I was in the shower where the water was flowing at the opportune moment.