Tag Archives: stories

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes? Really?

I found myself in a hallway, standing against the wall with huge windows on the opposite side. Women with large cameras started lining up along side me. I wondered for a moment, then figured out what was going on.

Oh. My. Goodness. I was with a handful of bloggers waiting to cover the President’s arrival at Walt Disney World! Can you believe it? And only moments ago, I was driving a stolen tractor.

I assumed they were lining up a day early to get a good spot…and that I would miss the actual arrival. But what do you know? A large thick, orange jet appears in the sky outside the windows and lands in front of us. HE’s here! It’s President Obama and his family…and I get to witness it all! I’m so incredibly excited!!

The first family disembarks the jet (in their jammies), and lucky me…I have camera in hand. I snap and snap, I snap away. I fiddle for my phone for a tweet. I accidentally grab the phone from the woman next to me and shamefully return it, half amused at my awkwardness. Me. She was not amused an iota.

The Obamas dash by quickly waving and smiling but there are entertainers of the circus parade variety following them and I try to get photos of it all. None of my pictures are turning out very good of course. But I keep trying.

After the hubbub has past, I notice a table of goodies set out before us. Several varieties of yummy cookies and cakes…but I can’t have any. Wretched gluten, you know. Still I look…and I inhale deeply to get a taste.

A fellow blogger makes a snide comment about having to show forever gratitude or risk never being invited again. So as I’m walking out, I thank everyone. I don’t really know who’s in charge, so I have to cover my bases. And I am grateful.

No one seems very fond of me, but then a shorter, thicker woman says, “That’s a nice look for you.” I smile and thank her. Until I notice that my skirt is in a bunch and unbuttoned. My pubic line is showing and I scramble to cover myself properly. I look back at the woman and see that she’s pulled off her wig. She’s actually a grumpy little man. It’s Disney.

I continue to walk and now I’m in a mall. But I can’t remember where I parked. I’m walking in circles trying to recall and realize I’m actually at school. Problem though…I cannot for the life of me remember my class schedule. I let myself off the hook because it’s a brand new semester, but I’m really puzzled as to why I don’t know where I’m supposed to be. I turn the corner and I’m in a hospital, then a Disney building and I’m back in the mall.

A group of Japanese entertainers, dressed as Chinese clowns are in front of me. The woman in charge of their group notices my dismay and decides to cheer me up…but I nearly fall in a giant fake egg roll. When a dog comes up behind me and starts to hump me…well I’ve had too much. It’s time to go.

I wake myself and I wonder, “Crap! Did I oversleep? Are the kids late for school?” But all is well, though my heart is really racing. Where in the world did this come from? YIKES! And except for the stupid rude dog…it was kind of fun.


Haunted Roster

In anticipation of the big investigation this weekend, I’ve gathered my “haunted” posts into a collection here. Don’t expect anything spectacular or jaw dropping. This is not a tale of horror. Just my experience so far, living in a modern haunted home.

You can see all haunted entries on one page, by clicking Soul Searching. Then scroll to the bottom of the page with the oldest post and work your way up to the most recent.

Or you can view each entry seperately in order at the links below.
My Orbs
Got Spooks?
Restless Messless Room
Scented Presence
Paranormal or Just Abnormal?
Just Aghast…No Ghost
Getting to the Roots
Haunted House – An Inventory

Haunted House – An Inventory

I haven’t written about my haunted house in a while. Frankly, it’s something I feel stupid talking about.

I am an emotional person, but I have a logical side. Ghosts in the house? Bah humbug! I’m somewhat of a skeptic.

But…I don’t know. I believe we don’t know everything. I definitely don’t know it all and I’m curious. And I’m obviously very much on the fence with what is or isn’t going on here.

I’ve been thinking about the situation way more than I write about…and decided I need to let some of this out of my head…and into text.

I want an inventory of things that might be regarded as evidence. There’s no single account or event to be considered proof of something special, but maybe collectively, the list will make you wonder.

I’ve heard ghost stories from numerous people. Some horrifying, some touching. There have been sightings, objects moved…residents awakened in their sleep.

Some have shared stories about haunted houses they grew up in…and weeks later, I discovered that their childhood homes are next door to mine. Kind of a funny coincidence…or isn’t it?

My youngest children have seen a man here. Miss Ivanka was frightened by him…and exclaimed that she NEVER wants to see him again. Very recently, (November 19, 2010), my son may have seem him too.

Jonebug pulled me upstairs to show me “Eyes”. When we get there, he moved toward a toy on the floor, tossed it out of the way and tells me “Eyes gone. Where he go?” He looks around the room, saying, “Where he go?”

The following morning, Jonebug leads me into the room again and asks “Where eyes go? Eyes gone.”

It was after this most recent event, that I decided to get this all organized. On November 20, I started this post.

Then another funny thing happens. Out of the blue, on November 29 the reporter calls to ask if I would allow an investigative team into my home. I will. He tells me someone will call.

December 10, 2010 – Case Manager calls to ask about bringing a team in for an investigation. A date is set.

What happens next? I don’t know. Maybe nothing. I’ll keep you posted.

Edited to add: December 11, 2010 – I call Mr. E. to ask about any further stories. He tells me again how the original home owners were awakened. The kids were touched in their sleep; they felt things. They saw heads…they saw eyes.

Getting to the Roots

Yesterday, a woman with her granddaughter and a Yorkshire terrier pulled into my neighbor’s driveway. I was cleaning my pool. She asked how I liked living here. I explained that I do.

Her parents, the Roots moved into town in the mid-1930’s. She was familiar with the name Weatherford…played with Weatherford kids as a child. She remembers Harold. They’re the same age.

Her parents moved into my house in the late seventies. Her mother died here. She remembers talking to her mother briefly that day. It was obvious she had regrets…more than thirty years later.

Her father loved the house when he moved in with his wife. After she passed, he didn’t like it anymore.

The house was already haunted when they got here.


Mister E was here….and said, “It’s that house!”  He knows stories about my house!

Spectral images waking the homeowners from their sleep.   A little girl tugging on their covers, “Please, please!!  Help my daddy out of the trunk!!”

On New Year’s Eve, cabinet doors would get opened and items would be moved.  The residents knew for certain that no family members moved these things.

Some of the stories are BAD…with strong emphasis on BAD.  Not exactly ready to know yet, so I didn’t push for more.

At the family skating party, my baby sister told me her sighting story again, this time in person.  She felt no fear when she saw the apparitions.  There was a man in the kitchen and a girl on the stairs.  She’ll ask her friend if she has any stories to share.  I hope she remembers.

So I’m back to a little bit scared.  Still thinking the television reporter could’ve misled me, but wondering again who lives here with me.

Paranormal or Just Abnormal?

My interview was the final step in getting my story to air.  It would be a small blip on the morning news and most people would never see it.  I was really looking forward to it though.

I have an unreasonable fear of speaking on camera and was hoping this would help me overcome it.  I felt thoroughly capable this time and was eager to try.

For three days in a row, a local reporter canceled and rescheduled my interview.  First night, he drove away from the station without the camera.  Second night I don’t remember now and third night the camera was in the shop.

When he called to cancel on the final night…he started to say that he’d just take the footage he had and the experiences and feelings I’d shared and use them for his report.

I interjected to add my feelings about having an old man and a little girl here based on the BO and floral fragrances…then told him about the email from my baby sister.

I sent an email shortly after the reporter’s first call.  My sister had visited the house frequently in the past so I asked if she had any stories of the haunting.

She admitted that there had been paranormal experiences with two families that had lived here before.  She, personally had seen the ghost of a little girl standing at the top of the stairs and on another evening the ghost of a creepy old man.

When the reporter heard this, he switched gears.  He said that he would like to do a full blown story with the production crew.  He knew of professional ghost hunters in the area and wanted to invite them in also.  I was in disbelief.

It was exciting to think that I might actually get information about what was going on here.  Maybe a more solid “no” or resounding “maybe” as to what was or wasn’t going on here.  I was happy about having ghosts.

My Orbs

I’m rid of the fleas that were eating on me, but now I have spectral orbs.  Not sure what to do or think about it.  At least the orbs don’t seem to want to chew on my ankles.

Shortly after moving into my home in July of 2005, folks began to tell me that my house is haunted.  No stories, no specifics, just the fact that I might not be alone here.  I was amused by the claims and found them unconvincing.

I’m basically a logical person and by my standards, this house isn’t even old.  I know it was built over thirty years ago, but if it was constructed in my lifetime, it’s a new house in my eyes.  How can it have a history?

Despite my logical side, which admittedly can be fuzzy now and then, I can sometimes scare myself very late at night.  What if the claims are true?  What if spirits do dwell here?

I live alone with my three youngest children in a large 4-bedroom home with an attached 2-car garage on a double corner lot with three front yards.  Usually my anxieties are fairly rational and are caused by creatures of the living world–the true-life psychos I’ve seen on Court TV or criminals I hear about on the news.  But late late at night, thoughts can go wild and fear can take over.

These late night apprehensions for the most part have been few and far between…until now.