Sunday, November 12, 2006

Deers and Fears

The boys have been out in the woods deer hunting all day. By 'woods',
I mean our backyard. And our sideyard. We have 20 acres here at the
Mansion. That is really not big enough for 5 people to deer hunt. "We
all stayed together," explained HH. Yes. I'm sure it was quiet enough
to hear a deer fart with HH, his two older sons, and our #1 and #2
boys all sitting together.

Last night, HH, the returning veteran, and our two little boys had a
cookout down by the A-frame cabin HH built many years ago. I have
yet to figure out how the 4 of them ate 14 hot dogs.

This morning, #1 son and the vet went up to our other 10 acre lot.
They didn't stay long. Needless to say, no deer were harmed in the
writing of this post.

In the continuing saga of my 'haunted' Mansion...Last Sunday, after
I returned from the casino weekend, I was in the basement watching
TV while #1 son tried to hit me with a paper airplane. I don't get no
respect.

The boy chased his plane over by the door to HH's workshop.
"Eeeeeeee! Did you hear that, Mom?" he squealed in his high girlish
voice. We never know if it will be that voice, or the kind of possessed
sounding deep voice. He's that age, you know. "Hear what?" I said.
"In Dad's workshop! It was like somebody crinkling up a piece of
foil." I had heard nothing. "You're just imagining things. Go in there
and see if the back door is closed and locked." He did not want to.
"No. There's something in there." I persuaded him to open the door,
turn on the light, and walk across the room to check the outside door.
It was locked.

The boy went upstairs to take his medicine and get ready for bed. He
came back down to torment me some more. By now, it was almost
9:30. HH was gone to Fort Leonard Wood to see the arrival of the
returning veteran son. We heard walking upstairs in the kitchen, right
over our heads. "What was your brother doing, getting a snack?" I
asked. "Noooo...he's asleep on the couch." We looked at each other.
"Do you hear that?" I asked. "Yes." I told him his dad must have come
back early, instead of staying the night. "Go up and see." He was
having none of that. "NO! I'm not going up there." We heard more
walking for about 5 minutes. Then is stopped. "He must have gone
to bed. Go see if that was him." Since there was no more walking,
the boy ran upstairs and looked out the door. He came back. "No,
it wasn't Dad. His truck is still gone."

It didn't help that I was watching that Celebrity Paranormal Projec
on VH1, the old people's channel. The were going into an old prison
to try to contact the old warden who had put a lot of people to death.
One guy was supposed to sit in the electric chair and try to talk to
the warden's spirit.

The boy went up to bed. He has quit sleeping on the basement couch.
I changed the channel to the Food Network. A couple days later, I
told him I knew what time he went to bed, because I heard him
walking. "It was 9:40. I heard you walking in the bathroom and your
room." He said, "Yeah. That's about right. I thought you might have
heard those footsteps again. Just as I was walking into my room, I
heard a noise in the hall by the bathroom. It was like a 'whoosh' sound."
Okaaay. I don't know what to think of that. I asked him if it might have
sounded like the water faucet turned on, and water running in the sink.
He said maybe. I have heard footsteps, the toilet lid, peeing, and a
failed flush attempt in that bathroom, while I was upstairs about 20 feet
away. Both boys were asleep in their beds at the time, and HH was
at work. I don't know what to make of this noise situation again.

In my mom's house, when we were kids, we heard walking upstairs
all the time, in my mom and dad's bedroom. It started at the hall, and
walked across to the bathroom in the corner. My dad used to come
home for lunch, and said he would even run upstairs, thinking someone
had broken into the house while we were gone to school. My mom
says she has not heard those footsteps since my dad died. Perhaps the
phantom walker has relocated.

I suppose there are no bathrooms in the afterlife.

3 comments:

Mish said...

This is probably a good time to read up some old newspapers in the local library to see if youc an dig up any history on your place.

EEK!

scrapper said...

Maybe the walking ghost followed you to the Mansion! I'm so jealous that you have your very own ghost....NOT!!

I made the mistake of watching that VH1 show while hubby was at work! I am sure most of it was fake but it still gives me the willies just thinking about it.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Mish,
I keep planning to do that, but then I get busy or I forget. We built the Mansion 9 years ago, and nobody has lived in it but us. The land used to be part of a great big farm. I know the last name of that owner, so perhaps I can look it up that way. People within a half mile of us report finding a Civil War cannonball on their property. We have found arrowheads in the creek. We have that odd chest of drawers that HH bought at a used furniture store. I can't think of any other spirit kind of connection.

My mom's house was also built by us, and moved into while new. It was across the road from a cemetery with the same name as our last name--though we didn't know of any relatives buried there. I'll look into it when I get time.


Scrappy,
It's kind of an uninvited guest, I suppose. I'm sure those VH1 shows are fake. But when they read that stuff at the beginning to get them all worked up, it frightens me, too. I used to watch MTV's Fear several years ago, but I could only watch the reruns during the daylight hours.