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Tag Archive: ghosts



Ghost Trouble eyesI get a lot of comments from people who say that they feel like someone is watching them. Since they know there is no one else around, they are pretty sure the feeling is coming from a ghost, and it freaks them out, makes them uneasy and anxious…and for some, it terrifies them. I know the feeling…been there and done that a time or two or a thousand! It’s not a good feeling. Seriously, it’s bad enough to have someone watching us when we can see them watching us, but to have “someone” watching us that we can’t see? Now that is a spooky, please-make-it-stop kind of uncomfortable. A big part of that fear is the unknown factors. Who is it? WHAT is it? What do they want? Are they going to attack me? Possess me? Do they watch me during private moments when I don’t want anyone watching me?

So, here’s the thing…those in spirit don’t have “eyes” the way we do and thus can’t actually “see” us in the way that we see each other. We live in a physical world and must use our physical eyes to see it. Those in spirit have “spirit eyes”. They sense us, can FEEL us, and they may even be aware of who we are BUT, they can’t actually SEE us or what we are doing. So go ahead and pee and don’t worry that a ghost is standing there watching! Really!

I used to worry about that…being watched in the bathroom…when I lived in the haunted house I’ve talked about in this blog. The idea that a ghost might watch while I took care of business made it very hard to relax and get it done! I couldn’t wait to hurry the heck up and get out of there! Now, of course, I realize that even if I was to sense a ghost in the bathroom with me…that ghost isn’t actually watching me do my business! They are sensing my presence and that’s pretty much it (sort of like what we experience with them). If only someone had told me that back then! It sure would have helped my poor digestive tract a little more!

Another worry that people often express is that the spirits they sense will end up attacking…or worse POSSESSING them! First off, possession is not common and there’s a LOT of conditions that must be in place for something like that to happen. For instance, people with substance abuse problems, mental illness (like schizophrenia for example) and severe depression are a little more susceptible. And, of course, not all people experiencing those things are going to be susceptible. Constant negative thoughts can (and often do!) attract negative entities and when combined with those conditions just mentioned…well, that could POSSIBLY put someone at RISK but again, it isn’t a done deal. So let’s just leave the possession thing alone. Besides, if a possession was going to occur, there would be a LOT more things going on than feeling watched!

A lot of people also say that along with those feelings of being watched, they also are having nightmares. Now, I think their concern is that the nightmares are somewhat prophetic or there’s worry that something LIKE it is going to happen “for real”. No. Nightmares are your mind’s way of acting out your fears. FEAR triggers nightmares. Fear causes us to imagine all sorts of horrors that we worry might happen. Now, although the imagination is the key to opening the door to the spirit world, it is also a way to act out our fears, our dreams, our desires…etc….prior to making SOME of them actually come about. Depending on what you give the most focus to, that is the sort of energy you invite into your life. And by the way, it has to be more than a passing thought or even casual “daydreaming” for it to come into actual creation. You have to CONCENTRATE and FOCUS your energy and do it with INTENTION to bring it into your reality.

As spiritual beings…which we ALL are…we are, at the most basic, most simplistic level…beings of ENERGY. Focused thought activates our source energy and become POWERED UP by our EMOTIONS. So, if you are constantly focused on a particular worry and you FEEL lots of anxiety and fear because of it…then you are generating energy that goes along with those sorts of thoughts. That generated energy attracts more of the same and so you get caught in this terrible negative cycle. Therefore, if you are in a house, for instance, that makes you feel like someone is watching you and you’ve determined it is haunted and since you are scared of ghosts your imagination kicks in, adding more fear to the idea and nightmares happen and more ghostly (paranormal) activity occurs and now you’re thinking you could be possessed or killed or maimed……..do you see how it goes? I’ve been guilty of it myself!

If only someone had told me that haunted or not, negative spirit or not…I HAVE THE POWER TO PROTECT MYSELF and they (meaning anything of any sort) can’t hurt me…then I may have enjoyed a lot more of those seven years that I lived in that freaky old farmhouse! And the thing is…I survived it just fine. As did my family. Every terrifying experience brought about no physical harm. Ever. In truth, pretty much everyone survives their ordeal in a haunted house. The few, few exceptions involve special conditions as mentioned above.

As for me, in any situation in which I have felt threatened (be it from a supernatural source or NOT), I prayed. Let me tell you right now, folks, prayer works! Prayer to the higher power (whoever that is to you…be it GOD, ALLAH, BUDDHA, etc…) WILL protect you. Some have said they did pray and yet the spirit stayed anyway. Well, the good ones aren’t going to go away if you prayed for negative spirits to be vanquished from your presence! Besides, there’s no need for protection from loving entities. And as to that, well some people don’t want loving spirits around them either! And that’s fine, it’s their choice to make. Loving entities will go away when you ask them to. Negative ones won’t. You need to work at it a bit more. But whether they are there or not, regardless how bad they are, you CAN protect yourself. You have within you all the power you need to do it!

It’s really no surprise that negative entities lurk in the dark, slithering along in the shadows. Their personal spiritual energy is “vibrating” to a much slower “speed” than those living in the “light” (which vibrates to a much higher rate of speed than anything in existence!). Let’s take a fan for example. If you spin the blade around with your hand…it isn’t very fast and you can see the blade. That is a slow speed, it generates no energy…no breeze, nothing. Plug that fan into an outlet and turn it on and guess what? You can’t see the blade because it is spinning around too fast. AND the energy is generating wind! Well, light is like the fan that is going at full speed (this is why we can’t see spirits, their personal energy is vibrating to a such a rate of speed they are “invisible”). All beings are high energy lifeforms. You see, we have two bodies…the physical body which is vibrating at a slow rate of speed (all MATTER is dense because its energy is moving slow enough to make it appear solid…like the fan blade that is not under electrical power) and we have our spiritual body which is “plugged” in to our source energy (God in my book). When a person’s spiritual energy is dim (meaning their awareness of God is slim to none) then they are operating on low energy which is considered negative (and I might add here that although negative energy is strong, it will never be stronger than positive energy!). Negative entities work best in the dark. That’s because the energy in those areas matches their own. When they try to operate in the light, they can easily become overpowered. So, by creating light…be it real or IMAGINED (focused thought…intention…is very powerful!) you are generating enough power to combat any and all negative entities. The “light” (of God!) PROTECTS you from its influence. End of story.

When I lived in that haunted farmhouse, I feared two things…I feared the negative spirits present there and I feared thunderstorms (in fact, I still don’t like those storms!). To protect myself from the negative spirits, I prayed. To protect our home from lightning strikes, I prayed and then imagined that God placed a protective shield around our home. EVERY time I did this, our home was left untouched by lightning. I forgot twice and deliberately didn’t do it ONE time (as an experiment) and in all three instances our house was struck! Coincidence?  I think NOT.

So, my advice to those who sense ghosts and feel like they are being watched…I tell them that they are in no danger. Because they aren’t. They’d have to tell me a heck of a lot more than the following to think otherwise: I feel someone watching me. I hear my name being called. I hear footsteps. I felt someone touch me. I feel cold spots. I’m having nightmares. I heard knocking noises. My lights come off and on. My doors open and close. I’m losing things. (Just to name a few of the more common experiences!)

I think knowing you aren’t going to be attacked or possessed goes a long way to calming some of the fear. Right? Then I tell them how they can protect themselves: Prayer, Imagining light around them (or a bubble of protection, that works too!), and mentally sending them away. The thing is…the physical world belongs to the physically living. This is OUR world. We are the boss of it. So, by taking command of your immediate surroundings, you determine what can and can’t happen. You do this by DELIBERATE, FOCUSED INTENTION.

Shi shi dogs

My favorite form of protection is to imagine myself glowing bright from the inside out. My personal “light” (my spiritual energy) is so amazingly powerful, I don’t need anything else. But some people feel like they need more…so that’s where other things come into play…such as wearing a cross for example. If you believe that is going to protect you…then it will! In Okinawa, Japan, (where I was stationed for three years while serving in the Air Force), they put statues of these mythological creatures called Shi-shi dogs at the entrance to public parks and buildings and personal homes. The Shi-shi dogs have two functions: One keeps the negative spirits away…and the other allows the good spirits to enter! So, those work too! Whatever you believe in will work. And here’s the kicker…whether you BELIEVE in your imaginary light as being protective or NOT, it WILL STILL WORK! Why? Because light is positive energy. That is what it is. Not believing in it isn’t going to change anything. Just like if you are to look at a cup and say, “No, I don’t believe that’s a cup.” Well, guess what…it’s still a cup isn’t it? It is what it is. Don’t you just love that saying? I’ll say it again…it is, what it is.

I just want to add one more thing about why so many people feel like “someone” is around. The fact is, spirits are everywhere! They share the same space as us…just on a different level of consciousness (also known as realm or plane). And when conditions are right, we’re going to feel them…sense them. And of course, since they are around, it’s natural to think they are watching us.

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Memorial Day will soon be upon us. It’s a day to remember military service members who have “fallen”… transformed from physical life to their natural spiritual one! We give thought to them, we thank them for their service to our country, and we remember our loved ones whether they served in the military or not. Memorial Day has come to encompass all who flourish “over there”. There’s no better way to show honor to them than to REMEMBER them and think of them with LOVE in our hearts! That, my friends, is positive energy in motion!!

So, I’ve rambled on enough, I think! I just wanted to share some of what I’ve learned with you because it seems to be a general concern for people who visit my blog! And before I close, I do want to put it out there that I’m going to celebrate Memorial Day by putting my first book in the Tess Schafer-Medium series “Be Still, My Love” up for FREE on Amazon.com (ebook only!) from 25 May to 27 May! (UK folks can click here),

Also, to one lucky commenter on this post (who I don’t know PERSONALLY), I will send a signed physical copy of the first two books in the series (Hidden Voices is book two…UK click here if you want to check that one out)! The names of those leaving a comment and requesting they be entered in the drawing, will go in “a hat” and get shuffled around. I might even post the video to show how it “all went down”! (smile) The commenter whose name is drawn will need to give me an address to send the books to…and I promise to never use the address again! The name drawn will be announced in the blog comments under their name so if you are not tracking the comments or signed up to follow this blog, you’ll have to leave me an email address so I may notify you (send it via the “contact” page in order to keep your email private!). And again, unless you tell me to put that email address on an email list to alert you of future book deals and promotions and release dates, I won’t keep it on file. I am willing to mail to any country in which paranormal books are legal! (smile)

The reason why I want to put Be Still, My Love up for free for a couple days is because it’s the first in a series of five books (so far!) and the medium in it (Tess Schafer, the main character) is grieving over the loss of her husband. Now, he wasn’t in the military and never served…BUT, she loved him and she misses him…just as we do for all our loved ones who have crossed into spirit! It just so happens, though, that she goes on a healing vacation to a haunted resort on the coast of Maine and meets Kade Sinclair, who is a Marine. His military career ended when he was severely injured in a roadside bomb explosion that killed five of his buddies. He’s having a tough time dealing with all that and Tess helps him heal a bit (he really deals with his issues in Ghost Trouble, but that’s another story!) (UK folks can check out that book here). She also receives some healing from her own grief which is great because no one should be sad for their entire lives! Additionally, Tess shares her spiritual beliefs, many of which I too believe and discuss in various blog posts!

Given all that, I thought it was a great book for a day like Memorial Day! My twenty years in the military are forever ingrained into my heart and my thoughts and creating Kade was my way of showing honor to all the wonderful military people out there! He’s a good guy and he deserves to be happy…despite everything. No matter what.

May you all have a safe, happy, glorious and loving Memorial Day!! Blessings to all and Peace out.

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I LOVE paranormal stories. They scare me, make my skin crawl and often induce me to sleep with a light on, but even so, I enjoy them! I don’t like blood and gore stuff, though. That stuff grosses me out. Spooky stuff…THAT’s the kind of stories that make your hairs stand on end. I probably enjoy ghost stories because there’s such mystery surrounding them. And because I lived with dead people for awhile. That sort of puts things into perspective…makes you realize that there’s more to life…and death…than what we think we know. In truth, it’s from what we don’t know, that our fears grow.

Ever since I was little and lived in a haunted house, I’ve wanted to know WHY spirits linger in “our” world (the land of the physically living) once they’ve passed on into their new one (the great “hereafter”). Not everyone hangs around haunting the living. So WHY? Do ghosts have fears? Fear is a huge stumbling block for most of us. We must conquer fear in every aspect of our lives…in the here and now, and in the afterlife. At least, that’s what I think. I could be wrong. And I could be right. On the off chance I’m right, I am hoping to get things figured out well ahead of my appointed time to ‘cross over”. I have no intension of hanging around scaring the bejezus out of my loved ones. There are a few others I could  think of that might be fun to scare, but honestly, I’m hoping there are better things to do when I get “over there” than to amuse myself scaring those who annoyed me when I was alive!

I’ve come to believe in reincarnation for various reasons (see Reincarnation Fact or Fiction?) and so I’m always wondering how my past lives are affecting my current one. When I was in the military, I was in a tough career field. It consisted mostly of men (about 98%) and the few women there were…well, you had to be tough or stupid to stick it out (I put myself in each category through alternating points of my life!). Over and over I met up with the most difficult of supervisors and co-workers. And over and over I would say…WHY do I keep coming up against the same kind of people over and over again? Each new base I was assigned, I would hope things would get better…and NO, that wasn’t often the case. Each time I encountered the same difficult, over-bearing people I’d encountered at the previous base. I came to wonder if it was just me. Was I such a loser to be messed with so much? No. I wasn’t. I had lessons to learn and yes, I eventually learned them and let me tell you…once you figure out a problem…it really does go away! So, I started asking myself…have I encountered these people before and they are just getting me back for a past life transgression? How do I even out the Karma and stop the cycle of retribution, revenge and whatnot? Really, when you start approaching people and events this way, you look at it all quite differently. Suddenly I’m not resentful but curious.

Since I constantly wonder about reincarnation, karma, past lives and the like, it’s only natural that as a writer I am going to write stories featuring these interests. No Matter What is one of my most intriguing stories. I’m quite proud of it. I really wanted to explore all the issues about life and death in this book. Why are we here? What happens when we fulfill our purpose? Just how much does a past life affect us? What about Heaven? What about Hell? The questions mounted and No Matter What practically wrote itself. I was a spectator to my own story, as eager as a first time reader to find out what was going to happen next! If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost wonder if I channeled the story somehow. It sounds corny I know but there you have it.

So, I wrote my story and I’ve put it out there for anyone else who might enjoy a story involving ghosts, reincarnation and past lives. Because I’m a Veteran and proud of it, I thought…why don’t I share my baby with the world at no cost? So on November 12th and 13th (my favorite number by the way!), I’m going to offer my special baby for FREE! For any of you paranormal enthusiasts…I sure hope you enjoy it!! And however you feel…leave a review and let us know!  Thanks so much for visiting my blog and sharing some time with me.

Many blessings to all and Peace Out!


I’ve been interested in the paranormal since I was a little girl. Living in a haunted house will do that to you. Weird stuff happens and once you get over the terror of it, you begin to look for understanding. Here’s the thing…I KNOW that house was haunted. Ghosts lived there with us and the older I got, the more I wanted to know WHY. After we moved out of that house, I continued to read up on things but my paranormal experiences sort of cooled off for a bit. My prophetic dreams stopped occurring and though we had a few bizarre events happen in our new house (sink faucet coming on full blast, burners on the gas stove spontaneously lighting, a blender suddenly springing into action), things were relatively quiet. I was mostly involved with reading palms at this point and studying up on how such a thing could be so darned accurate! Ever had your palms read…by a LEGITIMATE palm reader? You should. Your palm is like your personal memoir. Fascinating stuff.

So anyway, life chilled for a bit on the paranormal end but then I joined the Air Force and was sent to Korea for a year. I had to leave my infant son (my first born!) and that was tough. Let me tell you, it was rip-your-heart-0ut TOUGH. I did a lot of drinking when I first got there. Thought it would get my mind off my baby. It didn’t of course. In fact, it made things worse. Then one night I started telling some friends about my living in a haunted house and they wanted to know it all. When I got to the parts about using the Ouija board, they got the bright idea that we should do that. And so my paranormal experiences began to happen again. We had some really interesting conversations on that Ouija. Let me tell you. Now, I know people will say that it’s evil and all that and I suppose it can be. After all, the Ouija opens a door to the other side. One must be responsible when opening doors like that! Unfortunately, not many people take the necessary precautions to ensure no negative entities come through. I’ve always been careful and can proudly say that I’ve not had any negative experiences with the Ouija. It honestly is one of the EASIEST forms of spirit contact. Maybe because people treat it like a game and so they let their guards down, lower their defenses and relaxes the all-protective EGO. When you truly ALLOW spirit contact to happen…it will.

After my year in Korea was over, I reunited with my son…now 18 months old, walking, talking … doing all those things he wasn’t doing when I left him (he stayed with my parents for the year I was away for his dad went to Korea the same time as I did). Upon my return to the States, my husband and I initiated divorce proceedings (they had a saying in Korea that those stationed over there would come back single if they were married, married if they were single and if neither of those applied then they probably became alcoholics … and yes, there were a few exceptions to this rule, I wasn’t one of them).  For awhile it was just me and my son and it was wonderful to reconnect with him. I thought he was pretty fascinating. He talked very well for his age and so we could actually have conversations. One day he comes to me (he’s not yet two remember) and says, “Mommy, where is my wife? I miss her.” And so began a bizarre period of time where my son was obsessed about his life “as a man” and death. One night while tucking him into bed, he looked so very sad and I asked him what was wrong. He says, “I don’t want to die again. I don’t like it.” Can you imagine how I felt during conversations like this? He was only two. What to say? For the next three years, my son continued to talk about things that happened to him “when he was a man”.  When he was four, he started talking about his time in the military as a pilot in the Korean war! Now, I ask you…what would he know about such things? I did not watch war movies and neither did he. We were living in Germany by this time and didn’t even have television! So, because of that, I began to read up on reincarnation. The whole subject totally fascinated me and still does. I even wrote a book in which reincarnation plays a big role (No Matter What which I hope to have published in ebook by October!! Just in time for Halloween!)

My son was three when I remarried and I was pregnant with my second child when we arrived in Germany. My paranormal endeavors went on another hiatus. We came back to the States with three kids…two daughters were born while I was stationed in Germany. As it happened, I went through yet another marriage break-up (do you know how high the divorce rate is with military members!? It’s a tough life). This break-up really devastated me. My first divorce was quite friendly. We didn’t fight, we just didn’t suit as a couple. But my second one…boy, it brought me down to my lowest points. When your life is falling apart, you can cry about it (which I did in excess!) or you can try to pull yourself together and get on with it. This I did eventually do but I went through quite the spiritual reformation while doing it. I needed to know WHY things happened the way they did. I needed to understand why my life was so messed up! Divorce can really damage your sense of self-worth and totally ruin your self-esteem (not to mention the financial devastation which is another whole set of worries!). I hit a critical low period in my life and turned to God for help. I began studying about angels (they are so awesome!!) and I began to truly believe that God takes care of us if we let him. When we try to control things ourselves without God’s help, well, that’s when things go awry. Little miracles began to happen (I’ve blogged about some of it, see God, Money, Faith) My belief factor went up and things got better and better. It was during this time that I discovered Automatic Writing.

Automatic Writing is allowing spirit to speak to you through hand writing. You can also allow them to come through on the keyboard. It’s basically a form of channeling. As I didn’t have a keyboard at the time (home computers hadn’t put in an appearance much at this point), I used a notepad and a pencil. I meditated (another thing I was learning to do!) and then I started writing! Many spirits came through and brought messages that were helpful. I moved from Automatic Writing to channeling a beautiful spirit I called Sheila (yes, I use her in my book Be Still, My Love and in its sequel Hidden Voices which will be out soon!). I didn’t use a pen and paper with her, I just allowed her to speak through me. I was remarried by this time and my new husband was quite involved with this process. We were both fascinated by Sheila and the things she told us. I had some really amazing experiences with her. Now, I have to tell you that I often questioned these experiences and wondered if it were all coming from my imagination. But I also have to tell you that while Sheila was speaking, I was thinking all sorts of things…ever try to talk and say one thing while having a completely different conversation go on in your head at the same time? This happened quite a bit because I often speculated on the things Sheila shared. Half the time I missed what she was saying because I was busying trying to counter something else she’d said! (we taped every session so I wouldn’t miss out on anything). It was an eye-opening experience and all of it was getting me more and more involved in the world of the paranormal.

Then this marriage went really bad. I can’t say what happened, it’s all so very personal but I will say that I didn’t really know the man I married. Looking back on it, I don’t regret a thing, no matter how bad it got, because it has all led me to where I am now and I like where I am. I wouldn’t change it for anything. Though I wish my kids hadn’t had to go through all that crap too. Life lessons are HARD! For awhile I was mad at God and even the poor angels. I couldn’t understand  how they would let things get so bad. After all the prophetic dreams, all the channeling work, the messages from spirit…WHY did this crap have to happen? Once that marriage ended, my life began to really turn around. It’s been all up hill from there, I’m happy to report! I found the man of my dreams and he’s very understanding about my paranormal interests. He’s also very supportive of my writing and he’s been the BEST father to our kids.

They say that the third time is the charm…for me it took four. But what a CHARM it is! When I started work again on my paranormal thriller “No Matter What”, I began to get more involved with the paranormal world.  Although I had dabbled some with the Tarot cards, I didn’t really get involved with them until I started work on this story. One of my characters was a Tarot reader and I wanted to understand more about it (so my character would sound legitimate) and suddenly I became fascinated with them. They really are quite amazing. I also began to study Numerology (another thing the character in my story liked to do!). Again…the way these things work in our lives is truly amazing!!

When our military careers came to a close (my husband did 28 years and I did 20) and we retired, I figured I’d have more time to write. Not so. We got busy running a small campground which we thought would make a great retirement plan and I found myself too busy to write. But, I did continue with the Tarot cards, palm reading and Numerology studies! When we finally decided to close the campground (it’s a tough world when it comes to running your own business!!!), I found myself having more time to write. I began to edit No Matter What and then I found the Spiritualist church! When family members who have passed on into the great hereafter came through during the “messages from spirit” part of the service, I knew this was the church for me. I signed up for their mediumship class, went on ghost hunting adventures and learned about table tipping! This is yet another form of spirit contact. You simply put your hands flat on the top of a table (must be evenly proportioned…round or square) and invite spirits to come through and and talk to you by “tipping the table”. What fun we’ve had with this!! Table tipping is truly an adventure in the paranormal. We’ve gotten the table to spin, walk or slide across the floor, tip nearly to the floor (without falling!) and rock back and forth. A few times we’ve had the table tip up (usually onto two legs) and then stay there. No matter how hard we tried to get it to fall back onto its legs, we couldn’t do it! Truly…is that fascinating or what?

I’ve had tons of experiences, too many to mention, and they have all led me to the interests I now have. These interests come through in my writing. People write to me and ask me if I am Tess Schafer (the main character of Be Still, My Love) and I guess I have to say yes, to some degree. She has a lot of me in her. But she’s better! A better medium anyway. I love to make up stories. It’s natural to make up stories that involve things that interest me. The paranormal has interested me most of my life and that is why I write about it. I also love to read about it! What about you? Do you like to read about the paranormal? Why? Do you write about it? Share with us your books if you do! Share your stories or your blogs. The people who come to this blog do so because of the paranormal content (right?) so if you’ve something to share, please do!!

Until next time, blessings to all and Peace Out!


In part one of my “Living With Ghosts” blog series, I introduced the spooky old farmhouse my family moved into when I was seven.  Any place with such a colorful history as that house is bound to have a few ghosts, right?  Although the house was old, the wiring bad, the facilities outdated and so on and so forth, my parents moved there because they didn’t have much money and the rent was dirt cheap.  With five small children to support, they thought it was a great deal.  And it was…if only we didn’t have to share the place with unseen specters!  Although I was only seven years old when we moved there, the place had such an impact on me that my memories are quite vivid.  Some of it I wish I could forget.

Since the house had been empty for quite a while, my parents had to do some extensive cleanup and repair work to get it inhabitable.  I remember my first visit to that house as if it were yesterday.  My mom let me tag along with her and a friend during one of their cleaning expeditions.  Their main agenda for the day was to pull several layers of old wallpaper from the walls so new wallpaper could be applied.  I remember that the walls were made of wood laths covered in plaster mixed with animal hair.  The stuff was crumbling from age and my parents replaced a lot of it with sheetrock (drywall).  I can still recall my thoughts on the house the first time I entered it.  The place was darned right gloomy.  It was also quite chilly inside despite the warm spring day outside.  There wasn’t a lot of lighting in the house (the wiring needed quite a bit of updating).  My mom told me that the bedrooms were upstairs and that mine was the last room on the left.  Although I remember feeling uncomfortable going upstairs by myself, I was eager to see my room and so up the stairs I went.  The room that would become my brothers’ bedroom was at the top of the stairs to the left, my parents’ room straight ahead.  There were no windows in my brothers’ room so it was quite dark in there and I had to go through their room to get to mine.  The door to my future bedroom was partially open and I could see that it was lit bright with sunlight.  I raced through the gloom to my future bedroom and was glad to see we had two large windows.  They faced the right side of the house and the river a couple hundred yards down the hill.  The room was filled with furniture (antiques!) and I remember being delighted by the mirrored dresser.  It had all sorts of neat little drawers and I sat before it to explore each one.

I wasn’t in the room very long when I heard someone coming up behind me.  I thought it was my mother.  I turned to ask her if the dresser was going to stay in the room for us to use but no one was there.  It puzzled me to find the room empty for I was sure someone had walked up behind me.  Though reluctant, I went and checked out the other two bedrooms.  I glanced toward the “dark room” (see Part I) but no WAY was I going to peak in there.  Both bedrooms were empty.  Feeling jittery but having no justification for concern, I returned to my exploration of the dresser.  A few minutes later, I had the strongest feeling someone was standing right behind me and my back crawled with unease.  Remember, I was only seven … I didn’t know about ghosts and had no clue why I felt as if someone was in the room with me even though I couldn’t see anyone.  It frightened me beyond measure and I no longer had any desire to explore my room and the furniture within it (the room was packed with lots of old stuff!).  Although I wanted to rejoin my mother, I was afraid to go through the room beyond, especially as I had to pass the dark room to do so (its entrance was a few feet to the left of my door).  I figured whoever was up here with me had to be hiding in there as I’d checked everywhere else.

It was quite a quandary I found myself in for I didn’t dare to leave, I was too scared to stay and I wasn’t sure if I should be making any noise since I didn’t want to attract their attention.  But then I’d made enough noise up to that point, I finally figured they already knew I was there anyway and began calling for my mother.  She kept answering with a “What?” but she didn’t come up the stairs and I didn’t dare go down them.  Finally, after repeating “Mom!” several times with escalating panic, my mother’s head appeared as she came up the stairs just far enough to see me (the top of the stairs was all open so you could see the last few steps from any vantage point).  “What?”

Why I didn’t tell her I was scared, I don’t know, instead I asked her if I could keep the dresser.  She said no, it wasn’t ours to use and before she could turn to go back downstairs, I ran to join her.  Although I really wanted to explore that house, I was too afraid to do so after that.  I did not feel comfortable there.  And the feeling was to remain for the next seven years!

When we finally moved in, the house didn’t seem so scary with the five of us kids running through the place.  My mom and dad always seemed to have company so the house was usually overrun with people.  Even so, I remember feeling like someone was watching me all the danged time.  I usually blamed the feeling on my brother (three years younger than me and quite the pest).  I was so sure he was hiding and spying.  Who else would it be?  Stuff began to disappear almost right away.  It was a common occurrence to have my parents complain about something they couldn’t find (they weren’t the only ones but our stuff being lost was naturally blamed on our inattention and thoughtlessness).  Of course my parents blamed us kids for their lost items (sometimes we would find them, in some strange obscure place, but oftentimes we did not).  I still wonder where they went? Countless times my dad gathered us together to demand we tell him where the latest missing item was “or else!”.  The fact we were all punished when the culprit didn’t speak up always had us kids mad at each other for not fessing up.  Of course, most of the time my poor brother “J” (I’ll just give him an initial as I haven’t asked him if he’s okay with me using his name!) was thought to be the guilty one.  There was a lot of “the blame game” going on, I can tell you that!  The atmosphere was, at times, quite negative.  Not all the time, of course.  Looking back on it, I truly believe the negative atmosphere happened when the spirits were about.  We did have spells of time where they seemed to be absent.  Why they came and went, who knows?

Since we put the missing stuff down to one of us (kids) being the culprit, we weren’t yet aware of the ghosts.  The first year or so living there, anything out of the ordinary happening was explained away.  “It’s cold in here because the walls are built solid and doesn’t allow the summer heat in (the slatted walls filled with horsehair plaster and no insulation told a different story!), the noises we sometimes heard were the house “settling” or it was one of the cats … perhaps even a mouse.  What else could it be?  The feeling of being watched, of not being alone…well, that was hard to explain.  Sometimes I would think it was J but when I knew where he was, I didn’t know what to make of it. The doors being found open (so common an occurrence that it often went without comment), well, it HAD to be one of us kids opening those doors…right? Actually, as I grew older, if my dad got up in the morning and found a door open (meaning the front door, the cellar door or the door to the attached barn), well he usually blamed it on me because I was often the last one to bed!  It boggled my mind that my dad would actually believe I could leave those doors open and head on to bed.  I didn’t feel safe as it was!  In fact, I often doubled checked the doors because I had so many nightmares of us being killed in our sleep! Yeah, my imagination worked overtime while living there.

My fear of that house began in earnest the night my mother went to play Bingo with a friend, leaving us kids at the house with my dad and her friend’s husband.  Ranging from the ages of one to eight by this time, the five of us kids were having a grand ole time playing on the stairs that night.  We were sliding down the narrow stairway on our butts, our bellies, our backs…however we could manage to do so.  We were making quite a racket, I know that much.  The main part of the stairway came to a small landing that then turned right (if coming down) with two more steps to the kitchen. We were confining our “slide” to the landing.  Above this landing was a small window.  I was too short to see out the window if standing under it.  From the back of the house where the window was located, I would guess it was about seven feet up from the ground for it was higher than my dad and he is six feet tall.  It was built flush with the house, no sill, no framing (I feel these facts are important, you’ll see why).  My dad and his friend were sitting at the kitchen table talking … just a few feet from the stairwell entranceway (they must have been happy to have us all occupied in one place so they didn’t mind all the noise we were making).  For once all five of us kids were having a good time together, no fighting, just fun.  We had no worries.

I had just completed my run down the stairs and turned to start back up them when I saw my sister about four steps down from the top.  She sat frozen in place, her dark brown eyes wide with fright, her mouth open in a silent scream.  She was about three at the time.  My two youngest brothers were on the steps behind her, laughing and playing, they were ages one and two (yeah, my mom had us all pretty close together!).  My brother J was a couple steps below my sister and on his way up.  He saw her strange stance and turned to see what she was looking at.  He immediately began screaming in terror and turned to make a mad scramble up the stairs, practically bowling my sister over in his haste.  My two youngest brothers turned to look as soon as they heard J scream and whatever was in the area above my head, they saw it too and began to scream right along with J as they scrambled after him up the stairs.  I did look above me but I saw nothing.  Whatever was terrifying them had to be in the window.  I remember the top of my head started crawling with unease, as if a thousand spiders and just landed there!  I was scared to freakin death and didn’t even know why.  All I knew was that my siblings were seeing something pretty danged awful.  Once my brothers started screaming, my sister found her voice and she let out the loudest, high pitched screech.  That alone would make your hair stand on end!

My dad stood up and looked at me.  “What’s wrong with the kids?  Go get your sister.”

With my dad standing near the stairwell, I felt a little braver and so I crouched low and ran up the stairs to get her.  I picked her up, her little body stiff as a board and she grabbed me as if I were saving her life.  I turned then to look at the window, afraid to see what they saw.  Nothing was there.  As I started down the stairs to my dad, my brothers scrambled down with me, all three of them crying with fright.

My dad took my terrified sister and did his best to comfort her.  It took a while to calm her down and, his patience wearing thin, he told the boys to stop their racket as well.  Of course he looked to me, the oldest of the bunch, for an explanation.  I had none.

Once my sister’s cries calmed to hiccups, my dad asked her again why she was scared.

“Red eyes, red eyes.”  That’s all she would say and then she buried her head in his shoulder.

Now my brother J (five at the time) spoke up.  “There was a monster in the window!”  My other two brothers began to cry again as they repeated the word “monster” and moved closer to dad and I for protection.  My dad put my sister in my arms and motioned to his friend to follow him.  They grabbed a flashlight and headed out the door.  The five of us kids huddled together in the kitchen and waited.  I envisioned my father being eaten by this monster my siblings saw and wondered if I’d be able to save us from the same fate.  Yeah, young minds!  After awhile, my dad returned from his investigation.  He said there was nothing outside the window that he could see.  His conclusion?  My sister and brothers must have seen a reflection of themselves in the window. I knew, even at eight, that such an explanation made no sense.  We’d been playing on those stairs for quite a while, why hadn’t our reflections bothered us from the beginning?  And seriously, what’s so danged scary about our reflections?  Geez! Totally subdued and frightened, the five of us kids went into the living room to huddle together on the couch.  While my dad and his friend sat back down at the kitchen table to continue their discussion (as if nothing had happened!), I asked my siblings about what they saw.  We spoke quietly among ourselves, knowing my dad would get upset if he heard us talking about monsters.  All four of them saw it.  The two oldest were adamant that they saw a face with red eyes. My brother J said the eyes were glowing and the face was scary.

Even though my dad didn’t find the “monster” we all knew it was out there and from that moment on, I was terrified of that house.  Now I knew something else was there with us.  Now I knew why I always felt as if something were in the room with me even though I couldn’t see it.  Now I knew what was opening the doors, taking things, making strange noises and moving stuff.  We had a monster.  It wasn’t much of a relief to later learn the monster was actually a ghost … and it wasn’t just one … no … there were, in fact, several and one of them was bad!

Okay, I’m done for now!  I’m trying to limit each post to to one or two ghostly incidents in order to keep the story relatively short!  Hope you visit again for Part III  …  if you dare! (smile)  Until then, blessings to all and Peace Out!


Last year I started this blog and since my interests (among many!) are attracted to anything dealing with the paranormal/supernatural and the books I write also include such subject matter, it was only natural that I would blog about that stuff too.  I became interested in matters of the “unknown” and “mysterious” when me and my family moved into a haunted old farm house back when I was seven years old.  I’ve always said I would write a book about our experiences there but, interesting though various events were, I’m not sure I could keep the page-gripping momentum going through an entire book.  I mean…there’s no final big show down or climatic end…we simply moved out.  We had had enough.  I do, however, have a great “novel” idea for a future book which will be loosely based on our experience there.  One of these days I’ll actually get down to writing “The Haunted Farm House” (or whatever I end up calling it) but that book will be a work of fiction and I would love to share what REALLY happened.  What better way to do that than a blog series!

Now, all my earliest blog posts were about my experiences in that house but I sort of crammed them all together as it seemed once the dam broke on my reminiscences, I wanted to get it all out there quickly.  So instead of reposting those, I’m going to rehash all the same stories again, minus the eager blog-post-overload I engaged in before!  This way, I can really convey what it is we experienced and maybe explore my own thoughts on it a little more … now that I know what I know!

For this post, I want to give a little history about the house, what I remember of it (I was 7 when we moved in and I was 14 when we moved out).  Despite the many years that have past, my memories are still pretty vivid and I continue to dream about that place to this day … thirty plus years later!  A homestead has been on the property since settlers began arriving in the area back in the 1760s.  The place used to be a farm (thus we dubbed our home “the farmhouse”) and many tragic events happened there.  Barns were struck by lightening at least twice that I know of and many animals were killed.  Although many adults died on the property (remember, it’s been settled a long time!), several children died there as well (I can’t tell you how it was they died but I do know that one of them drowned in a well which was filled in afterwards, thank God!).  We even uncovered a story about one of the house’s inhabitants being tarred and feathered by the town!

So, how do we know about some of the folks who died on our property or in our home?  Because they are buried in a tomb a couple hundred yards behind the house.  The inscriptions of eleven people are engraved in the granite stone facings of the tomb’s front wall (the rest of the tomb was buried in a mound of dirt long since overgrown with grass and brush).  A small rusted metal door about three feet high and two feet wide was it’s access point.  When curiosity led us to that tomb, I remember the door was slightly ajar.  A few years later (I was about 12 I think), I would actually have the nerve (or stupidity) to enter it!  My mother tells me that TWELVE people were actually laid to rest in that tomb.  She did a lot of research on the property when we finally accepted that it was haunted and sadly, all those research papers were given to a friend who then lost them! No matter, what happened in that house prior to our living there was not as much a concern to us as what happened after we moved in!  Though I suppose past events certainly affected future ones!  For one thing, there has to be a reason why all those spirits chose to hang around in our dimension rather than moving on in their spiritual journey.  When I say “all those spirits” I have to explain here that we figured somewhere along the line that four spirits shared our home with us.  One of them was not a good one.  I think if you are a bad person in physical life, you aren’t going to suddenly become good in the afterlife.  Probably this is why that particular spirit hangs out in our dimension (sometimes called “plane” in other writings on this subject).  I mean, what’s his alternative?  Hell?

The house was two stories high.  The first floor mainly consisted of the living room (where the oil stove was located and the only source of heat for the entire house!) and the kitchen.  Both rooms were spacious and nearly the same size.  A huge cast iron stove pretty much dominated the kitchen.  It was fueled by oil on one side (it was my job to fill the oil can…a chore that meant a trip down a long creepy spider infested corridor in the old barn) and propane gas on the other side.  The stove top on the oil burning side was smooth and flat, almost like a griddle.  It took quite a while to heat up so we mostly used it as a source of heat for the kitchen.  We also used this side to slowly boil down sap for maple syrup.  It was perfect for that job!  The propane side was used for most all the cooking.  The oven was a learning experience to cook in as it was hard to regulate the heat.  But as I loved to cook and my mother was okay with my kitchen experimentations, I did learn how to use it!  I remember the door to that oven was heavy cast iron and in later years it would play a part in an accident involving BOTH my parents!  A small pantry was off the kitchen and this is where the old cast iron sink covered in worn porcelain was located.  It had a faucet you had to pump to get water!  In today’s day and age, that would be considered rather “novel” but we found it out-dated and my father was quick to replace it!  I know that one of the more recent of the past residents (prior to our moving in) had died in the pantry.  This room more than any of the others always creeped me out the most, probably because I had to go in there so much.  I HATED that room and unfortunately, this is where the dishes needed to be washed (also my chore) and where all the food and dishes were stored.  The refrigerator was in there as well.  My little dog Tippy didn’t like to go in the pantry and so I couldn’t use him as a “deflector” for the spirits while I was in there.  I usually had to bribe one of my siblings (I have three brothers and a sister all younger than me) to come in there with me as I felt safer when I wasn’t alone.  I needed them to watch my back for I always felt like someone was in there with me, standing at my back, breathing on my neck.  It sent chills down my spine (that really happens!) and it seemed my flesh was always crawling with discomfort.

The one bathroom was off the kitchen (sharing a wall with the pantry).  It didn’t have any lighting and I hated it.  Of course my parents put a lamp in there but the light did nothing to dispel the creep factor.  Who knows what that room was before it was converted (before indoor plumbing, there was an outhouse).  Another room, which eventually became my bedroom when I got older, was also off the kitchen … you actually had to enter this room to get to the bathroom.  Another doorway to this room connected to the front hallway and directly across that was another entry to the living room.  So basically you could run circles through all the rooms on the first floor.  No doors were on any of these entrances and that was probably to allow heat to circulate throughout.  Next to the doorway between the kitchen and living room were two other doors.  Coming from the living room, the one on the left went out to the barn and the one straight ahead went down to the cellar.  Though the five of us kids played in the barn all the time (it was chock full of old antiques!), we were terrified of the cellar.  Since the door wouldn’t stay closed, my parents used to keep a butter knife stuck in the door frame to keep it from opening.  The cellar had a dirt floor, it was damp down there and cold…always cold, no matter the season.  It also had a room built down there…near the center…that looked like a tomb.  In fact, we called it the “tomb room”.  It had an arched ceiling and was constructed entirely of bricks.  We later found out that bodies were sometimes kept in this room until they could be transported to the tomb or buried!

The stairway to the second floor was off the kitchen and above the cellar staircase.  Since it was an enclosed staircase, it had a door down in the kitchen and in the winter we closed off the upstairs and the seven of us all crowded downstairs to stay warm.  I have to admit here that I loved the winters in that house the most!  It seemed that paranormal activity was not so busy in the winter and the house was actually warm!  Maybe the spirits didn’t bother us so much because we were all together and happy and that somehow helped to ward off their activity.  Who knows?

On the second floor were four rooms.  Straight ahead of the stairs was my parents’ room.  There was a “window” in the wall in my parents’ room to what we dubbed “the dark room”.  We always found it peculiar that someone would put a window (no glass, however, just a gaping black hole) between two rooms.  To the left of the stairs was an open room which was where my brothers slept.  My sister and I had the bedroom at the end of their room.  The doorway to the dark room was in my brothers’ room and I will tell you that the five of us kids were quite scared of it.  It was dark in there because there was no outside window (my mother hung a picture over the hole so no light could enter from their room either).  A light fixture hung from the ceiling (right next to it was the access door to the crawl space under the roof) but we never kept a light in there because my parents used the room to store some of the old furniture left in the house that we had no plans to use.  It was the ultimate dare for us kids to go in that room.  Needless to say, most of us didn’t take up the challenge and if we did, it wasn’t for long.  My mother hung a curtain over the doorway and the thing moved often.  I tell you, that room had some negative vibes attached to it.  In my mother’s research, we learned that a handicapped child was kept in there!  Back in the day, people with disabilities were kept hidden from public view.  Thank God we don’t do that anymore!!

The upstairs was usually cool in temperature no matter the weather but I feel that most of the spirits hung out in my parents’ bedroom more so than the other two.  At least for me, that’s where I experienced the most paranormal activity on the second floor.  On either side of the stairwell were cubby holes that actually were crawl spaces between the bedroom walls and the roof.  My parents used these crawl spaces for storage but us kids did play in there on occasion.  Though we did get creeped out over time and stopped going in there.  It could have been our over-active imaginations but then again, we were just small kids and ghosts were unknown entities to us.  When we were in those cubby holes and feeling like someone else was in there with us, we beat a hasty retreat, scared though we didn’t know why.  We just KNEW something wasn’t right.  The feeling wasn’t always there, however, in the beginning.  Maybe over time our continued use of the cubby holes attracted their attention or maybe they became so attached to us they followed us everywhere and so it felt more and more uncomfortable as time went on.

So that’s the complete layout of the house.  As for the location, it was built slightly back from the road on a level area midway up a hill (we had no nearby neighbors as this was farm country).  Below us was the Orland River (an often used route for Native American Indians which peppered the entire Orland region at one time!).  The Orland River ran past our property to Alamoosook Lake and it was here (on the surrounding shores of the lake and the banks of the river) that several Indian burial grounds were located.  At one time the Red Paint Indians inhabited the area.  They were a mysterious tribe that disappeared several thousand years ago.  They were called the Red Paint Indians (later called the Maritime Archaic) because their burial sites were filled with red ocher (a bi-product of hematite).  I can’t help but wonder if that house was located near another Indian burial site not yet discovered?  Pure conjecture on my part, but it is possible.  But anyway … a large field surrounded our house (our landlord “hayed” it during the late summer) and then the land rose sharply and became heavily wooded.  Across the street from our house was a pasture where our landlord kept a few horses, a couple cows and a mean ole bull (at least for a couple of the years that we lived there).  In the winter the animals were taken away and we loved to go over there and slide down the hill on our sleds.  I can say that the pasture was free of spirits and that is probably why we loved playing over there so much.

I do believe that some areas are conducive to paranormal activity.  I’ve since learned that there are “ley lines” networking across the earth and at certain connection points, these ley lines are believed by some to create a sort of “portal” to the other side.  I truly believe that the area where our farmhouse was located (it has since been torn down and no trace of it remains) is a “hot” spot for supernatural activity.  Even now, when we pass by there, I get the creeps.  My skin crawls and I know they are still there.  It doesn’t matter that the house is gone.  They are not.  And they continue to plague my dreams.

So, that’s it for this post.  I wanted to introduce our infamous old house first and then concentrate on particular paranormal events that happened there in future posts.  The picture I’ve included was taken during a nighttime visit there a few years back (a couple years before it was tore down).  My brother was big into “ghost hunting” at the time and he convinced me to go with him to the farmhouse.  I don’t know how he managed to talk me into it.  I truly believe something bad hangs out there and I was really worried about it following me home!  The two windows on the second floor is where my old bedroom was located (the small window below went to the pantry).  You can see the orb clear as day.  Now, I know there’s a lot of controversy about orbs but my gut tells me some of them really are spiritual energy centers … and that’s what spirits are in the most simplest terms…we are all beings of energy!  Certainly a lot of so-called orbs captured on film are specks of dirt, bugs, moisture drops, etc.  But not all of them.  This orb…it’s one of THEM.  I KNOW it.  They wanted me to know they were still there.  And they knew who we were.  I felt that with as much certainly as I felt the goosebumps on my arms and the standing hairs on my neck.

I saw the orb in the review screen on my camera and hightailed it for the car.  I yelled for my brother to “Come on let’s get out of here, we need to leave NOW!” and he of course took his sweet time.  Before getting into the car he stopped to take a picture of it.  My mother and husband were waiting inside with me.  My brother looked at the review screen on his camera and hurried (finally!) to show us what he had captured.  The car was surrounded by orbs.  Unfortunately, the computer those pictures were downloaded to crashed on us and all the pictures were lost.  Bummer that.  I tell you, I FELT them.  And though I’m not so scared of spirits as I was when I was a kid, I still am afraid of THEM.  Or at least I am of one of them.  Needless to say, I did a lot of protection prayers as we sped away!

Okay, NOW I’m done!  In my next post, I’ll explain a particularly scary event that changed everything for me … turning our home from a fun place to live (the yard was our oyster!) to a chilling place of fear.  Until next time…blessings to all and Peace Out!


In my previous blog posts, I’ve shared events that occurred in a haunted house I lived in during my childhood.  It was my experiences in that house that inspired me to learn all I could about the supernatural and other phenomena.  Since I started writing stories around the age of eight, it was only natural that they included the things I was learning about and experiencing first hand.  Writers typically write what they know or what interests them.  What interests me are ghosts, spirit communication, the afterlife, reincarnation and all manner of things typically lumped under the title of “New Age“.  Although, if you think about it…New Age doesn’t seem an apt category name for most of the subjects filed under it.  Those ideas and concepts and practices have actually been around for hundreds of years.  There’s nothing “new” about them, but whatever.  We must pick our battles carefully and this one I’m going to leave alone.  For now.

My previous posts were the scarier events that happened.  This one is more of a bafflement … a curious occurrence that amazes me to this day.

Once we (my family and I) concluded that our house was haunted, we started looking at everything that happened there with new eyes.  No longer were we shrugging things off and thinking “how strange”.  And once my dad (the most stubborn and unbelieving of all) began to accept the idea, then things became a little more peaceful between us.  As I was the oldest child, I was often the last one to turn in for the night and so was blamed for the fact that my dad would get up in the morning and find the outside doors open and all the lights on.  I got the same old lecture every time, “Were you born in a barn? No.  So why are you leaving the doors open and the lights on?  You want to pay the heating and electric bills?”

I tell you, the day my dad sat me down and apologized for all the times he accused me of leaving doors open and lights on, well, that was a great day indeed!  The weeks that led up to that momentous day were filled with tension for the two of us because those two things were becoming a regular occurrence.  He accused, I denied and we both got angrier and angrier at each other!  Truly, it was putting quite a strain on our relationship.  But then one glorious morning, my dad found all the doors open and all the lights on and HE was the last to go to bed (I was being punished at this point and no longer allowed to stay up later than anyone else).  It also happened a couple times when I wasn’t home but staying elsewhere (I spent a lot of nights with my grandparents).  Finally he believed me and apologized for not doing so in the first place.  Thank God.

Now, just because my dad accepted that it wasn’t me opening doors and turning on lights, it did not mean my dad accepted the idea that ghosts could be doing those things.  His explanation?  Well, we had a “crazy old house” with serious wiring and “settling” issues.  Settling issues?  That might cause a strange sound now and then but opening doors?

It wasn’t just lights and doors that we had issues with.  We also had the problem of items coming up missing.  Now, we all forget where we put things on occasion and I would venture to say that more often than not, the item is usually found after a furious and annoying search.  But, many things that went missing at that spooky old farmhouse were never found.  One of those items being the first book I ever wrote!  Granted, I was only about twelve when I wrote it and it was probably not destined for greatness, but I was pretty proud of it.  Tools, pictures, toys, spices, books … these are just some of the items that simply vanished into the vortex of the unknown.

One vanishing act in particular really stood out and I must tell the story now. It’s one of my favorite mysteries attached to that house and usually one of the first I like to tell when people say, “You lived in a haunted house? Tell me some stories!”.

My parents went on a week long vacation to Florida one winter and the five of us kids were doled out among friends and family.  The person I went to stay with, Beth, owned several cats so she wouldn’t let me bring my pet parakeet with me.  I was very upset about leaving the poor bird in that cold, scary old house but my parents assured me it would be fine.  My grandfather promised to stop by the house to check on him so I had to be content with that.  A couple days go by and I get a phone call from my grandfather.  He says my bird is gone, cage and all.  I figured he just wasn’t looking in the right place so Beth and I head over there to check it out.  Not only was the cage gone but also the stand that it hung from.  We searched the entire house and that bird was not to be found.  Beth and my grandfather assured me that my parents must have found someone to take it.  My gut feeling was telling me otherwise but I hoped they were right.

The week passes and my parents return.  When my mom calls Beth to let her know she can bring me home, Beth asks her what she did with my bird.  My mother’s reply?  “I didn’t do anything with the bird.  Why?”  Beth tells her that it’s missing and my mom says, “It’s not missing.  I’m looking at it right now. It’s right where we always keep it.”  Beth informs her that it hasn’t been in the house all week and my mom doesn’t believe her.  Baffled by this turn of events, Beth and I head over to the house.  My bird is there in the corner of the living room, sitting in a nice clean cage.  There are no seeds on the floor around it (he was very messy).  His water dish is full and clean (he often dirtied it with seeds and feathers), his food dish is full.  Beth looks at my mother.  “You brought him home from somewhere.”  My mom denies the accusation and insists that he was there when they got home.  She also denies cleaning his cage and filling his dishes.  I call my grandfather.  He is our witness and Mom won’t lie to him.  When my grandfather arrived, we all got into a bit of an argument as we (Beth, my grandfather and I) were so sure that my parents were messing with us.  My parents were equally sure that we were messing with them.  It took some convincing on all sides but we finally accepted that we were all telling the truth.  It’s a baffling mystery to this day.

I have to add a quick note here on the eventual fate of that parakeet.  It was a few months after that incident that I started having dreams about events that would then happen exactly as I dreamed them the following day.  One night I dreamed that my bird flew over my head and out the door and so the following day, I left him alone.  I was determined that that dream would not come true.  As the day wore on and my bird remained safe in his cage, I figured it was okay to play with him as long as I was careful.  I was trying to get him to trust me enough to sit on my finger and after I finally managed to do this, I put him back on his perch and closed the door.  Just as I reached the front door, I felt something flutter above my head and I looked up.  My parakeet flew out the door and out of my life.

The parakeet’s disappearing act is quite a remarkable and curious story.  Not scary at all.  Looking back on it, I now realize that most of the things that happened in that house were more of a nuisance than anything.  What made it all so scary was the idea that dead people were causing them.  And towards the end of our time there, they got more and more active.

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