It’s the middle of April and we are 4 inches shy of the record for most snowfall in a season in NH since data collection began (can that sentence get any longer?). So this weekend I did the only thing that I could think of…I put the sno-blower away. Since snow in April is not unheard of, I believe that this move would be called ‘taunting’ Mother Nature. My fellow New Hampshirites might want to kill me – or at the very least, maim me – for tempting fate, but I am beyond caring.
I want that record.
In reality, I don’t really think it’s going to happen. In fact, a big part of me doesn’t want it to. Actually, I’m very confused about the whole thing. It’s been a long week where things keep going wrong or coming up or bad news hits. Maybe I just want one thing to go right. Even if it does come in the form of a freak snowstorm.
On a happier note, our tractor, Bobo, which has been hibernating all winter, actually started. Not that it does us any good – we have yet to find our farm to use it on (we probably own the most expensive and large lawn ornament out there). It’s been a long search to find our dream house. In our desperation, we even looked at a house where a murder took place not all that long ago. Fortunately, I didn’t feel good about the house. Even if I had liked it, there is no way I could have lived there. If the murder had happened a 100 years ago – maybe. But not 3 years ago. That’s just icky, spooky and very disturbing. I didn’t even live there and I had bad feelings about the place for weeks afterward.
The funny thing is that I don’t mind the idea of ghosts or spirits, or whatever it is you want to call them. I even have my own story about possible contact with the other side. Several years ago, my husband and I were living in an apartment that was part of an old house. The best part, in my opinion, was the attic, which was the size of a barn loft. To get to it you had to climb up a dark flight of stairs, hidden behind a door in the kitchen. When my older sister came to visit from out of state, I gave her the grand tour, which included the attic, of course. While up there, I kept experiencing what felt like a drop of cold water hitting my elbow. At the time, I was busy chatting so I merely swiped at my elbow, without thinking much of it. Only afterward did I stop to wonder what could be causing that cold, wet sensation. It’s dry as a bone up there and I was wearing long sleeves. Had I just had an encounter? Maybe. My husband avoided the attic like the plague and liked to keep all the lights on in the apartment. He said he never felt right living there. He is particularly sensitive to the possibilities of other-worldly creatures. Maybe I am, too…
We are now starting to think we have a haunted piano. It’s a baby grand, circa the 1940s, and rescued from a house fire. When my husband is working downstairs, he keeps hearing strange noises coming from its direction. He has heard what sounded to him like a shoe dropping onto the floor, but finds nothing there. There have been other strange noises, as well, and growing more and more common. While working at the computer – with his back to the piano – he also gets this sensation that someone is watching him. Hmmm… We were hoping to fix it up and use it once we move, but maybe we shouldn’t wait. Maybe it’s getting restless.
Whatever it is.
On that note, I shall say good day, leaving you with just a bit of chatter to fill the empty void…