Is there a ghost in my house?

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CLAUDIA has a great post up today about ghost hunters and her own experiences with visitors from the past. I believe in…something. I guess I would call it lingering human energy more than anything else…I think sometimes this energy manages to make subconscious contact with us and we “see” things or feel them. I’ve had a few genuinely startling experiences (and many of the “hmmm….that was odd…”) variety over the years.

Following Claudia’s format, I’ll list a few of the more memorable experiences here:

1. When we were young, my sister and I saw a ghost in the middle of the afternoon near my aunt’s house in Winchester, Va.. We were walking down a gravel road that connected my aunt’s property to her neighbor’s house – my sister was a horse nut at the time and we had walked to the neighbor’s so she could ride. As we came to the foot of a hill on this gravelly road, we suddenly saw a guy – my memory is that he was youngish – coming down the hill. I remember thinking, “How is he skateboarding on gravel?” because it looked like he was gliding down the hill. And just as soon as that thought popped into my head, I realized he COULDN’T be skateboarding and my sister and I both stopped in our tracks. We watched him glide down and off into some tall weeds. And then we ran like hell back to my aunt’s house. My sister was so freaked out by this she still refuses to talk about it.

2. Shortly after I had moved to Texas, I was home alone – it was mid-morning and I was outside breaking down moving boxes. All of a sudden, I felt someone staring at me and I turned around and saw an older man in work coveralls standing about four feet away, watching me. It startled the hell out of me – city girl that I am, I thought someone had snuck up on me…then I suddenly felt that he didn’t seem threatening and thought it might be a neighbor coming over to introduce himself. I started to speak…and then he was gone. I mentioned this to our neighbors a few months later and one of them said that my description of the man sounded like the original owner of the house, who used to work as a mechanic for the Austin bus authority (which might explain the coveralls). We also had a ghostly cat that both S. and I saw frequently in the hallway of that house and we would occasionally smell coffee brewing. Except for that initial “oh shit, where did this guy come from” reaction when I saw the guy outside, none of this felt menacing or bad. It felt more like people who had loved the house hanging around and that was fine with us.

3. There were a lot of strange circumstances before and after my father died…I think the one that sticks with me the most is the feeling I had the day he died – he was in a hospital room bleeding out and I knew I wouldn’t get to him before he died. (I can’t begin to describe what a sick and panicky feeling that is…I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.) Anyway, S. and I were sitting on our plane, taxing down the runway and I suddenly felt a warm pressure move through me at a superfast speed…and I knew he had died. I felt like he was saying goodbye and it made the flight a little less horrible. Even the staunch non-believers in our family have had encounters with him since then. I think most notably, my mom. She took me aside a few weeks after he died and said, “I need to talk to you about something.” The day he died, she was upstairs working on her computer and heard her doorbell ring. She came downstairs and looked out her peephole – no one there. She said she was overcome with a strange feeling, so she sat down in her dining room for a minute and the doorbell rang again. About two nights after that, she was sitting on her living room couch watching tv and caught some movement out of the corner of her eye and when she turned her head, he was standing right there. She said he smiled at her and then headed toward the back of her house and was gone. I have seen and felt him a few times since he died. I know that there is a raft of research that says a lot of this kind of thing is wishful thinking, but I don’t care.

4. The house we’re currently leasing has a strange corner in the dining/living area – S. and I have both felt someone standing there from time to time and there have been a few times when I’ve been home working when I’ve heard a faint voice saying “Hello!”. I usually say hello back and go on with whatever I was doing. Again, it’s not particularly scary. It’s just there. And as unfriendly as I am with real people, I’d feel rude not acknowledging someone who is reaching out through the space/time continuum.

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There is a lot we don’t know about a lot of things, so I choose to believe what I feel, even if logic or science might try to explain it in other ways. I am also a great follower of my intuition for similar reasons, something that I think has really served me well and lead me to have a very peaceful life. And now, I will sit back and wait for you all to call me a dirty hippie. Heh.

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“We do make light of everything on the blog and it’s very tongue in cheek,”

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…”But it all stems out of really SERIOUS AND HEARTFELT SITUATIONS.”

Whatever, you vapid whores.
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I am just a little too giddy today over the whole Blago mess. Did his speech set a dangerous precedent? Does reading this post? Does breathing air? (That will make sense only if you listened to his ridiculous speechifyin’ this morning.) I love his dogged insistence that what is happening to him is unfair and “could happen to anyone”. Anyone who commits federal crimes and/or breaks the public trust, I guess. I’m not too worried about myself, how about you all? While I was watching his speech this morning I was having idle fantasies of Judge Judy suddenly appearing on the bench and shouting, “I DON’T BELIEVE YOU. SIT DOWN.” at him. *sigh* What a dirty little bird he is. I. love. it.
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Let’s see…what else is going on…the mom of the problematic child in older charge’s class has been pushing for a playdate (I think because older charge is one of the only kids who has befriended this child) so we’re going to try it tomorrow. It’s only for an hour and the mom is going to be there the whole time, so if the problem child gets out of control at least it won’t be up to me to handle it. Despite thinking he shouldn’t be mainstreamed, I do feel for this kid and older charge seems to like him, so it may turn out to be a good thing for all concerned. We’ll see.
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Reading about THIS almost makes me want cable tv.
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As some of you know, one of my sister’s kids has the lead in his school play and I am trying to figure out a way I can be there for his performance. He tried out on a whim and apparently some high-school acting star has been threatening to beat him up since. (My sister’s comment to him: Tell the kid to stop being so DRAMATIC. Oh we are a hilarious family.) I was an acting kid in high school even though I was completely terrified every single time I was on a stage. Later, the same was also true of being on stage in bands, although by then, I was wearing glasses and my trick was to go onstage without them so the audience was just a lovely, drunken blur. Much preferable to looking out and seeing someone yawn. Or on their way out the door.
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And on that rambly (it’s a word if I say it’s a word!) note, I bid you a fine day.
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Lass Math.

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1. My ability to focus and work hard = my ability to flake and goof off.
2. Too many covers + not enough fresh air = nightmares.
3. KOZY SHACK FLAN = crazy delicious.
4. The amount of time I spend talking to children and animals over the course of any given day > the amount of time I spend speaking to adults.
5. Nothing to write about = crap posts like this.
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“One last thing before I quit…”

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I’m gonna miss that lil’ f – - – - – r when he’s gone.
*sigh*
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P.S.

(Second post today – scroll back one for nightmarish tales.)
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Who wants to buy me a ZOLTAR MACHINE? Bueller? Anyone?

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The candy-coated clown they call the Sandman…

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I spent the night in fitful sleep, deep in what seemed like an hours-long nightmare involving a friend from high school and her younger brother, who in the dream had crashed a car I had rented and lent to him. I spent most of the nightmare trying to track him down and get him to take responsibility for the crash. There were other weird details, such as this whole dream took place at some kind of run-down summer resort…but honestly, to try to weed back through the whole thing would just make me more tired than I am. Blah.
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Coffee is helping me shake off the dream and I’m sitting in my office, watching Stevie in the backyard as he’s being dive-bombed by grackles. The drought is so bad down here that our yard is mostly brown weeds and dirt, so Steve doesn’t have his usual lush camoflauge. I’m waiting for him to leap up and kill one of the birds…something he does with surprising deftness. He may be partially tamed now, but he’s still a killing machine.
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The couch arrived and it makes a lovely reading/lounging spot in our front room (or parlor, as some people insist on calling it). Our efforts to reconfigure and spruce up our place have paid off nicely and I have to say, the house I was hating just a few weeks ago now seems like a safe and cozy cottage. Which it is.
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I read this article about a 93-YEAR-OLD-WRITER this morning and was charmed…then horrified as I thought I might be seeing a glimpse of my future. I sometimes wonder is writing is just a compulsion for me. Maybe I suck and it’s just some elaborate obsessive thing that I can’t stop. And then I think…I don’t care. I won’t stop until they pry my pencils from my cold, dead fingers. (And yes, I really do write with pencils. On paper. I’ve got the mad old skool skillz…)
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I recently found out that TEMPLE GRANDIN will be speaking at a conference here in Austin and I am going to do my best to get in to hear her speak. I know I’ve mentioned her here before and I have to say that while she’s not a particularly strong writer, she has some very interesting things to say on the subjects of intelligence and Asperger’s/Autism. I strongly recommend her books, particularly Thinking in Pictures.
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I’ll end this by ’saying’ out loud the scary thought that is going through my head these days: Grad school. Anyone want to talk me out of it?

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Monday ramble.

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Hi, internet.  How are you?  Did you have a nice weekend?  Good, good.  Mine?  It was good.  Busy. Thanks for asking.
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There is great excitement in the Lass household because today this very modern daybed/sleeper will be delivered to us:

What does this mean to you?  Well, if you’re visiting us any time soon, it means you will have an actual bed to sleep on instead of an air mattress.  Woo. Hoo.
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Oh, look! The CRAZINESS CONTINUES with Blago. I know a lot of people are thinking this is all part of a grand plan to plead innocent by reason of insanity in his criminal trial but I’m not sure I buy that. (The plan part, not the crazy part.) As much as I have enjoyed watching his public self-immolation, I’m sure it will be a great relief to the people of Illinois to have him out of office. Or maybe not. It’s been cold up there this winter and having such a spectacular indoor diversion may be just what they need.
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The interview went very well yesterday. I was able to broach a few touchy subjects with the interviewee without putting her off, so that was a relief. I’ve been having to balance letting her have her say with getting the information I need and am finding that to be a bit tricky. But I like to learn by doing and this has definitely been a good learning experience for me.
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And because I have nothing else for you today, I leave you with this image from the GROWING UP STAR WARS Flickr group. Enjoy.

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Don’t scream!

Ahahahaha!

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Here is Richie Daley’s one-word assessment of Rod “THIS IS LIKE PEARL HARBOR” Blagojevich.  I realize it’s a little like the proverbial pot/kettle situation, but  I still laughed.

HERE YOU GO.

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I like a guy who puts his money where his mouth is.

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Particularly when it comes to overturning the restrictions on PRESIDENTIAL RECORDS and  ABORTION FUNDING.

As a woman and a journalist, I thank you, Mr. President.

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CLAUDIA has a good post up today about ways in which she is giving back to her community.  I was raised with a strong “give-back” ethic and while I am quite sure I don’t do nearly enough,  I do try.  I do at least one pro-bono fundraising research/grantwriting project every year and I will be volunteering once a month (more if they need it) this year at our local food bank as well as doing work for a local mental health resource for musicians.   No matter how little any of us has, it’s a given that someone else has less and volunteering is one small way we can all try to bring some of that into alignment.  Having worked for years in non-profits, I can tell you that there is always some thankless task waiting to be done and the people who run non-profits will be extremely grateful to you for your efforts.  So, as Claudia has suggested, I too urge all of you to seek out something or someone to help this year.

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And lest this be too nice a post, let me tell you that lately, when my neighbor’s dogs are quiet for a day, I silently hope she is lying dead inside her house and that the dogs are feasting on her carcass.  Her new thing is to leave her back door wide open 24 hours a day, which means the dogs are free to be out and barking at oh, say, 1am.  This just started this week and the next time it happens, which should be tonight, we’re calling the sheriff.   I am not normally a cop-caller but I’ve had it and she clearly is too drunk to be capable of or interested in controlling her dogs.   And I’m sick of being nice about it.  Blah.

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Lots of phone calls and transcribing to do today, internet, so that’s all you get for now.

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