According to family history (my mother), my parent's house was haunted by my dad's mother. The woman didn't get to see the house while she was alive, so she took up residence "later".
I didn't know anything about it, until one late-summer evening.
During summers, we placed a large fan in the window at the top of the stairs leading up to my sisters' bedroom. We put the fan on "exhaust" and it pulled air through the house from the open windows downstairs. I liked to stand in front of the fan and talk "through" it...the fan chopped up my words. I thought it sounded cool (I was 6).
So one evening I'm standing there on the landing, shouting out through the fan to one of my brothers in the yard, having fun (again, I was 6). After standing there a few minutes, something caught my eye from the right side. I turned to see a woman floating towards me along the bannister. She had dark hair and a white dress (the official uniform of female ghosts). I'm not 100% sure what happened next. One second I was looking at her, frozen, and the next I was at the bottom of the stairs on my butt. It happened so fast, I think I might have jumped. Anyway, I got out of the house as quickly as I could. I told my brother what I saw and he just laughed at me. All of my siblings did. But not my mom. When I told her, her eyes got big and she told me it was her mother-in-law. She also told me not to mention it to my dad. Apparently he didn't like the idea of his mom haunting us.
For years I thought I was the only one who had seen the ghost. But 20 years later one of my sisters admitted she had seen exactly the same thing in exactly the same spot. She didn't say anything earlier because she was afraid people would think she was crazy (like me :).
When I was almost 12 my brothers and I moved into the bedroom upstairs (yes, the pink one), where the ghost lived!!!
LOL, just kidding....she moved all over the house. :D
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Monday, September 30, 2013
"Why did I have the bowl???"
That
question had my kids rolling with laughter this past weekend. I didn’t understand why. They explained. If you’re familiar with the Simpson’s, you
know Bart’s friend Milhouse. In one
episode Milhouse got fed-up with Bart lying to him. He reminded Bart of the time Bart killed his
goldfish and then tried to convince Milhouse he never had a goldfish. To which Milhouse responded, “Then why did I
have the bowl, Bart? Why did I have the
bowl???”
Why
did I ask that same question this weekend?
Well, not long after I got married, my wife asked me to take her to a
Pfaltzgraff outlet. I was happy to—we
had zero money, so we could shop all we wanted. :D
During the trip she spotted
French onion soup bowls she really wanted.
Despite that and the fact I love French onion soup, we couldn’t afford
the bowls. Over the next two years we
visited the outlet several more times.
Eventually we bought two of the bowls and my wife committed to making
the soup. I was so happy.
Fast
forward to this past weekend…I threw out the lone remaining bowl. The handle had broken off years ago, but I’d
kept the bowl in hopes of someday actually getting French onion soup made at
home. I finally gave up on that. This weekend I reminded my wife about when
we bought the bowls and that she had promised to make the soup. She didn’t remember any of that.
To
which I said, “Then why did I have the bowl, K?
Why did I have the bowl???”
It
was funny to the two of us, but hysterical to the kids. The lesson here is that good intentions are nice, but they don't get you soup! :)
Thursday, September 26, 2013
September Bees
I have a Labor Day Bee story to share, but I need help making it not suck. Rooth kindly agreed to help with a few suggestions and I'm going to edit it. But in the meantime I thought I'd repeat another bee story. It's my "A" bee story. :)
I stay calm around bees because my grandpa assured me bees don’t want to sting us. If you stay calm and leave them alone, they will leave you alone. It works pretty well. I was good at the “calm” part, but once in a while I seemed to have trouble leaving them alone.
One painful encounter was made worse by who witnessed it (yes, it was a girl, sort of--you'll see). Anyway, weeds were growing out of sandstones piled on the side of the dirt road leading to our house--along the portion of road on the other side of the hill. The weeds scratched against cars as they went by, so my dad wanted me to trim them (using our whip—you swing it like a golf club, it has a blade on the end).
I started the job after school. As I walked up the hill, I noticed the very pretty young mom next door was on her porch. She waved and said hi, I tried to look cool--I had a little crush on her (I was 15). I started cutting weeds at the bottom of the hill on the other side and worked my way back towards my house (and neighbor). Soon I was half-way up the hill. I could see the top of her house, but I couldn’t see the porch yet because of the hill. I was distracted, so I didn’t think anything of the few bees I saw—bees are common in that area. I didn’t notice they were ground bees (yellow jackets). It never occurred to me there might be a nest in the rocks. I just kept swinging and cutting.
Before I knew it, I heard the unmistakable sound of MANY bees taking flight. One stung my arm and a few got under my shirt. Here's how my neighbor described (the next day) what she saw happen.
Her: What happened to you yesterday? I heard you yell and then I saw your whip fly up in the air over the top of the hill. Then your shirt flew up in the air…next you came running up over the hill waving your arms around your head. It looked like you'd gone crazy!!!
Me: Umm, I found a bee’s nest and they found me.
Her: ahahahahahaha!!!! Oh, I’m sorry, I hope you’re okay. But you just looked ridiculous!
Me: {dejected}
What hurt more, getting stung many times or looking like an idiot in front of miss cute (well, mrs. cute)? Definitely getting stung hurt more!!! But both were caused by stupid bees. BEES!!! *shakes fist*
That actually wasn't my worst encounter with bees and it may not have been my most embarrassing. Hopefully with Rooth's help I'll be able to share my "B" bee story someday.
Do you remember your first bee sting???
I stay calm around bees because my grandpa assured me bees don’t want to sting us. If you stay calm and leave them alone, they will leave you alone. It works pretty well. I was good at the “calm” part, but once in a while I seemed to have trouble leaving them alone.
One painful encounter was made worse by who witnessed it (yes, it was a girl, sort of--you'll see). Anyway, weeds were growing out of sandstones piled on the side of the dirt road leading to our house--along the portion of road on the other side of the hill. The weeds scratched against cars as they went by, so my dad wanted me to trim them (using our whip—you swing it like a golf club, it has a blade on the end).
I started the job after school. As I walked up the hill, I noticed the very pretty young mom next door was on her porch. She waved and said hi, I tried to look cool--I had a little crush on her (I was 15). I started cutting weeds at the bottom of the hill on the other side and worked my way back towards my house (and neighbor). Soon I was half-way up the hill. I could see the top of her house, but I couldn’t see the porch yet because of the hill. I was distracted, so I didn’t think anything of the few bees I saw—bees are common in that area. I didn’t notice they were ground bees (yellow jackets). It never occurred to me there might be a nest in the rocks. I just kept swinging and cutting.
Before I knew it, I heard the unmistakable sound of MANY bees taking flight. One stung my arm and a few got under my shirt. Here's how my neighbor described (the next day) what she saw happen.
Her: What happened to you yesterday? I heard you yell and then I saw your whip fly up in the air over the top of the hill. Then your shirt flew up in the air…next you came running up over the hill waving your arms around your head. It looked like you'd gone crazy!!!
Me: Umm, I found a bee’s nest and they found me.
Her: ahahahahahaha!!!! Oh, I’m sorry, I hope you’re okay. But you just looked ridiculous!
Me: {dejected}
What hurt more, getting stung many times or looking like an idiot in front of miss cute (well, mrs. cute)? Definitely getting stung hurt more!!! But both were caused by stupid bees. BEES!!! *shakes fist*
That actually wasn't my worst encounter with bees and it may not have been my most embarrassing. Hopefully with Rooth's help I'll be able to share my "B" bee story someday.
Do you remember your first bee sting???
Monday, September 9, 2013
Fire and Flood
Recently my weekends have revolved around dealing with the unexpected. That's life. But it gets to be a little much when things bunch together. The water heater went bad, the refrigerator croaked, my car died, a car window got stuck open, a toilet developed a horrible leak and we had a kitchen fire. Each one took a different weekend. The fire was the scariest, but the leak was the most work.
Late one Friday night my son mentioned his toilet was flushing "funny". He couldn't really describe it. I checked and it was flushing slowly, like it was partially blocked. I worked on it, but it wasn't getting better. Finally I moved a towel that had fallen on the floor from the tub. It was soaked--every time I flushed, water came running out of the bottom of the toilet onto the floor. I spent a good part of Saturday taking the toilet apart to replace the wax ring that seals the connection between the toilet and the drain. I don't know what plumbers charge for that job, but they deserve it. It's gross doing your own toilet. I wouldn't want to do someone else's!
The fire was on a Sunday. It was too hot to cook, so I bought rotisserie chickens--one for us and two for Bandit. We make his food on weekends and freeze it for the week. I finished a handful of chores (including boning two chickens) and decided to take a nap* (something I never do). Before heading to bed I asked my daughter to make Minute Rice for Bandit. Fifteen minutes later she called me--she sounded scared (I thought someone broke in). When I ran into the kitchen, I saw a good sized fire (18 inch flames) under the pot of water--our stove is electric!!! I turned off the stove, moved the pot and put the fire out (ruining a good pot holder in the process). Somehow there was oil on the cooktop and in the burner pan...the burner had ignited it. I spent the next hour taking the stovetop apart and washing everything. No one knows how the oil got there, but I suspect my daughter had a spill. She HAD a bad habit of using the stovetop as if it were counter space. This taught her that's not a good idea.
That's the only lesson in this post (a stovetop is not a work surface). Well, that and the fact that fate really doesn't want me taking naps. :)
I'm hoping the change of seasons brings a change of luck.
* A few days later I found out I had pneumonia.
Late one Friday night my son mentioned his toilet was flushing "funny". He couldn't really describe it. I checked and it was flushing slowly, like it was partially blocked. I worked on it, but it wasn't getting better. Finally I moved a towel that had fallen on the floor from the tub. It was soaked--every time I flushed, water came running out of the bottom of the toilet onto the floor. I spent a good part of Saturday taking the toilet apart to replace the wax ring that seals the connection between the toilet and the drain. I don't know what plumbers charge for that job, but they deserve it. It's gross doing your own toilet. I wouldn't want to do someone else's!
The fire was on a Sunday. It was too hot to cook, so I bought rotisserie chickens--one for us and two for Bandit. We make his food on weekends and freeze it for the week. I finished a handful of chores (including boning two chickens) and decided to take a nap* (something I never do). Before heading to bed I asked my daughter to make Minute Rice for Bandit. Fifteen minutes later she called me--she sounded scared (I thought someone broke in). When I ran into the kitchen, I saw a good sized fire (18 inch flames) under the pot of water--our stove is electric!!! I turned off the stove, moved the pot and put the fire out (ruining a good pot holder in the process). Somehow there was oil on the cooktop and in the burner pan...the burner had ignited it. I spent the next hour taking the stovetop apart and washing everything. No one knows how the oil got there, but I suspect my daughter had a spill. She HAD a bad habit of using the stovetop as if it were counter space. This taught her that's not a good idea.
That's the only lesson in this post (a stovetop is not a work surface). Well, that and the fact that fate really doesn't want me taking naps. :)
I'm hoping the change of seasons brings a change of luck.
* A few days later I found out I had pneumonia.
Friday, August 30, 2013
Blogger Friend News
Two bits of news--neither of which has anything to do with me. (That will likely make this the most popular post ever on this blog.)
First, I am now friends with a published author. Well, a very soon to be published author. Kristie of North of 49 has written a book titled, "Ting Ting". It can be ordered here and will be available on Amazon. Completely without Kristie's permission, I'd like to share a paragraph from the publisher's webpage:
"Eight-year-old Ting misses her parents, but her comfortable life in China hasn’t changed too much since they both went away to Canada. She’s living with loving relatives who care for her like their own child (even though her cousin is so annoying!). She goes to the same school with the same classes, including boring history and loads of homework. She has the same friends and the same favourites: hawthorn-berry candy and sticky taffy, outings to the park, visits with her grandfather in the country. If only she could be with her parents, life would be perfect!"
Having spent part of my childhood living away from my parents, I can partially identify with Ting. That aside, it's a good story. I think anyone will be able to enjoy it. Yay Kristie!!!
Other news, hmmm, turns out there's more than just two items.
Amy from Junghwa by Amy Stewart has re-launched her jewelry website. It may be too late for the 25% relaunch discount, but you can still qualify for 20% off.
Rooth of A MIUSMIE fame is periodically doing book reviews for The Bibliophile's Adventures Club. You should check them out.
Lisa of expandng has written a piece for...hmm...is it called Next time, Twins??? No, no, it's a site called Red Tricycle. :)
As for me, I'm hoping for a long weekend with no appliance problems, no plumbing problems and no fires. I hope I'm not aiming too high!
If you're in the US, have a great Labor Day weekend....heck, have a great weekend everyone!!!
First, I am now friends with a published author. Well, a very soon to be published author. Kristie of North of 49 has written a book titled, "Ting Ting". It can be ordered here and will be available on Amazon. Completely without Kristie's permission, I'd like to share a paragraph from the publisher's webpage:
"Eight-year-old Ting misses her parents, but her comfortable life in China hasn’t changed too much since they both went away to Canada. She’s living with loving relatives who care for her like their own child (even though her cousin is so annoying!). She goes to the same school with the same classes, including boring history and loads of homework. She has the same friends and the same favourites: hawthorn-berry candy and sticky taffy, outings to the park, visits with her grandfather in the country. If only she could be with her parents, life would be perfect!"
Having spent part of my childhood living away from my parents, I can partially identify with Ting. That aside, it's a good story. I think anyone will be able to enjoy it. Yay Kristie!!!
Other news, hmmm, turns out there's more than just two items.
Amy from Junghwa by Amy Stewart has re-launched her jewelry website. It may be too late for the 25% relaunch discount, but you can still qualify for 20% off.
Rooth of A MIUSMIE fame is periodically doing book reviews for The Bibliophile's Adventures Club. You should check them out.
Lisa of expandng has written a piece for...hmm...is it called Next time, Twins??? No, no, it's a site called Red Tricycle. :)
As for me, I'm hoping for a long weekend with no appliance problems, no plumbing problems and no fires. I hope I'm not aiming too high!
If you're in the US, have a great Labor Day weekend....heck, have a great weekend everyone!!!
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Feminism has failed me!
Yes, feminism has failed me. Me personally. I don't believe in "gender roles". You do whatever needs to be done. I do laundry (when my wife's not looking). I grocery shop. I cook ("feed the family" might be a better way to put that--to say I cook would be a stretch). I clean. I changed diapers and fed babies. But I am still trapped by the other side of the gender equation. I hear things like this all the time at home:
Rick, help, there's a spider-cricket!
Rick, the car won't start!
Rick, check the gutters (I was reminding myself, no one else cares about gutters).
Dad, there's no hot water!
Dad, there's water leaking out of the toilet!
Dad, the kitchen is on fire!!!
I'm expected to kill bugs (I AM really good at it), take care of the lawn and the cars, shovel snow, fix things when they break and, yes, I was called to put out a fire in our kitchen a few weeks ago. That was scary (but the leaky toilet was much more work).
It's the 21st century! Why do I still have to handle those jobs???
Well, in part, because I know how to handle them. But that's not the main reason. My wife could do them (or pay someone to). The main reason is because I want to do them. We have a modern version of a traditional marriage. My wife does most of the cooking and cleaning. (Well, she does much of it....okay, she does some of it...well, she does a little of it...just kidding, she does most of it.) But in the end, there are almost no jobs that belong to just one or the other--except for those jobs that are only mine (like those I mentioned above...and ironing). :D
I was teasing about feminism failing me (it made for a good post title). I'm content. But if anyone ever figures out a way for me to be equal to my wife, I'd love to know how to get promoted. (That's a joke my grandfather used to make--except he wasn't really joking. My tiny grandmother ruled the roost.)
Rick, help, there's a spider-cricket!
Rick, the car won't start!
Rick, check the gutters (I was reminding myself, no one else cares about gutters).
Dad, there's no hot water!
Dad, there's water leaking out of the toilet!
Dad, the kitchen is on fire!!!
I'm expected to kill bugs (I AM really good at it), take care of the lawn and the cars, shovel snow, fix things when they break and, yes, I was called to put out a fire in our kitchen a few weeks ago. That was scary (but the leaky toilet was much more work).
It's the 21st century! Why do I still have to handle those jobs???
Well, in part, because I know how to handle them. But that's not the main reason. My wife could do them (or pay someone to). The main reason is because I want to do them. We have a modern version of a traditional marriage. My wife does most of the cooking and cleaning. (Well, she does much of it....okay, she does some of it...well, she does a little of it...just kidding, she does most of it.) But in the end, there are almost no jobs that belong to just one or the other--except for those jobs that are only mine (like those I mentioned above...and ironing). :D
I was teasing about feminism failing me (it made for a good post title). I'm content. But if anyone ever figures out a way for me to be equal to my wife, I'd love to know how to get promoted. (That's a joke my grandfather used to make--except he wasn't really joking. My tiny grandmother ruled the roost.)
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Life with Ricademus
The alternate title for these posts is, "Pity My Family"--because they have to put up with me. Some of the situations I share in "Life" posts require some background, some lead-in. But I don't think the two examples below need any introduction. They are just normal, everyday types of exchanges at our house.
Conversation #1
Me: I need a new pillow.
Wife: Me too.
Me: These wore out too quickly. No more pillows from Macy's.
Wife: Let's donate them to the animal shelter so the animals can sleep on them.
Me: No, I don't want the dogs to get my scent!!!
Conversation #2
Wife: I feel drunk (she was really tired).
Me: (half-singing) Sober girls around me they be acting like they drunk, they be acting like they drunk.
Wife: What did you say?
Me: (half-singing, again) Sober girls around me they be acting like they drunk, they be acting like they drunk.
Daughter: (incredulous) Why mom? Why would you ask him to repeat that??? Please don't ask him to say things like that a second time!!!
My friend Rooth reminded me yesterday that my kids wish I didn't have access to current pop culture (slang, song lyrics, etc.). But like them, I live and breath and I'm bound to pick things up here and there. And it's so much fun to see how they react when I make use of that knowledge. :)
PS - They don't like it much better when I use slang from my grandfather's time and talk as if I lived then (You kids don't know what it was like during the Depression!). Can't make 'em happy. lol
Conversation #1
Me: I need a new pillow.
Wife: Me too.
Me: These wore out too quickly. No more pillows from Macy's.
Wife: Let's donate them to the animal shelter so the animals can sleep on them.
Me: No, I don't want the dogs to get my scent!!!
Conversation #2
Wife: I feel drunk (she was really tired).
Me: (half-singing) Sober girls around me they be acting like they drunk, they be acting like they drunk.
Wife: What did you say?
Me: (half-singing, again) Sober girls around me they be acting like they drunk, they be acting like they drunk.
Daughter: (incredulous) Why mom? Why would you ask him to repeat that??? Please don't ask him to say things like that a second time!!!
My friend Rooth reminded me yesterday that my kids wish I didn't have access to current pop culture (slang, song lyrics, etc.). But like them, I live and breath and I'm bound to pick things up here and there. And it's so much fun to see how they react when I make use of that knowledge. :)
PS - They don't like it much better when I use slang from my grandfather's time and talk as if I lived then (You kids don't know what it was like during the Depression!). Can't make 'em happy. lol
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