If there’s one thing I’ve learned about living in a haunted
house, it’s this: you get used to it. Just like you get used to footsteps on
the ceiling when you live in a downstairs apartment, or road noise when you
live on a busy street, you adjust to the things that go bump in the night.
Which I guess is how we find ourselves here, two and a half years (!!!) between
blog posts. We still see things, hear things, and experience the unexplainable.
It’s just become somewhat commonplace. Something will happen, I’ll be too busy
to sit down and write about it right away, and then within a day or so, I’ve
forgotten all about it. But our otherworldly friends haven’t left us. We are,
however, getting ready to leave them.
It’s been over five years since we moved into our spirited
little corner of the world, with no idea what we were in for. I’m so glad that
I decided to chronicle our time here, even if I have been pretty lax with it
the past couple of years. I love that we’ll have this weird little blog to look
back on years from now, when we’re struggling to remember what it was that made
this house so damn creepy. But all good things must come to an end. And so,
after ten years as a commitment-fearing renter, I decided it was time to dip my
toes back in the cesspool of home ownership.
Yep, I BOUGHT A HOUSE! A new beginning. A fresh, ghost-free
start. And yet, I’m a little sad to be leaving behind our roommates. Recently,
I took a drive out to the new house for no other reason than to admire the “SOLD”
sign in the front yard. One of my favorite things about the new house is the
1920s twist doorbell. I have to ring it every time I’m there. So before I left
that day, I walked up onto the porch and rang the doorbell. And as I turned to
head back down the steps, I heard a door slam from inside my completely vacant,
completely closed up new house. Well. Here we go again, I guess. Stay tuned,
folks…
