I love Halloween. I love old, scary movies, and I love ghost stories especially if they are supposed to be true. I just like to scare myself, toying with the thought that there is something beyond our knowing, and that something likes to tease us from time to time. I did once live in a house where I would hear footsteps pace back and forth in the upstairs hallway on a fairly regular basis. I would then dash up the stairs to see who might be there only to be met with a long, empty hallway. It became such a common occurrence that I stopped running up the stairs each time I heard the foot falls. To this day I wish I could have been in the position to buy that house. The ghostly footsteps would have been a unique selling point.
But I was in my twenties then. I’m probably more of a ‘fraidy-cat now then I used to be. I’m still enjoying it, but I’m a little more faint of heart. Case in point: when I started coming up from Chicago to visit Pete on his farm, I stayed in the upstairs room in this old, civil war-era home. That’s right, all by myself. Upstairs. In this old, creaky house. The only bathroom in the house is downstairs. So if I woke up at night needing to visit the loo, well I had to walk down the creaky hallway, down the creaky stairs, and through the length of the creaky house to the FARTHEST room from my creaky point of origin. The logistics are daunting for one of a highly haunted imagination such as mine. So I never went to the bathroom at night. I had some uncomfortable nights there as you could very well imagine. And of course every pop, creak and crack the house made at night made me freeze with eyes wide open. I knew that this was all about an old house settling in for the night, but I’ve seen too many horror movies at that point in my life. Poor Pete, in the morning I’d relate to him every creak, groan and crack I heard the previous night. I think I even acted out a clomping sound I once heard.
Fortunately, Pete loves Halloween just as much as I do. So now that I have adjusted to the night sounds of the house, I can let its true nature come out. It’s a good nature, but one filled with lots of cobwebs. Some of the cobwebs are real, and some I’ve added:
I like to think that I’m just enhancing the house’s natural characteristics. It also gives me an excuse to cut back on dusting:
And spiders are the least of our problems now:
And true to her nature, Gray Ghost remained elusive all day today, only appearing when the heavy mist settled in tonight. Things are just getting plain creepy around here. And that’s the way I like it.