So it seems our old new house is haunted as I originally feared/expected.
First of all, spider webs are EVERYWHERE. I dropped a cap from a juice bottle accidentally and it fell down the basement stairs.
I groaned and walked ALL THE WAY AROUND the banister to go down the stairs to pick it up and it was… consumed by thick spider web.
Guess we haven’t been sweeping the basement stairs.
And spiders are great but the front of our house looks very interesting in the right light. It’s blanketed by webs.
And then there is this patch of what look to be DEADLY POISONOUS mushrooms which pop right up and dye the ground black.
If June ate food, I’d be worried she’d eat the mushrooms.
But then a crazy thing happened at home which further advanced the potentially evil nature of our house because my husband came home one Friday to find that the annoying squirrel I hate had lost its head.
That was especially odd because the night before I had passionately discussed my plan to end that squirrel while sitting outside with my husband and a friend.
So now they both think I’m a witch.
A witch who lives in yet another haunted house.
Maybe it’s not the house, a friend said. Maybe it’s you.
In other news, my new used car following the car accident had its service engine light come on in the first couple days I had it.
This car followed the rental car I briefly had for a week which followed the Versa I’d had for a few months.
I still don’t know which car is mine when walking out of a store and surveying a parking lot.
But I’m catching up.
In any case, I took my most recent car into the dealership and they fixed the service engine light issue for free because it was something that Nissan had acknowledged as something that needed fixing and so it offered to cover the charge for any Nissan who needed the fix.
As a super great bonus, in my first few days of owning the newest car, I also noticed it was purple and NOT black.
So the new car is hyper-color. It is from the 90s.
And then the credit union which the car dealership used to offer me financing for the newest car sent my husband a letter, congratulating him on the purchase of a car.
Well, that seemed very unfair and inaccurate.
I think about these mundane/terrifying things when staring at the cars ahead of me in traffic which often have bullet holes in them.
Speaking of the Wild World, while cruising around the mean streets of Milwaukee for my job, I tend to always be close to this certain gas station which seems to be the only gas station in the area.
Visit the First
The first time I tried to get gas at this place, I noticed it was pre-pay so I walked up to the building to enter it to pay someone but… the front door of the little building was chained shut.
All the lights were on, and I could see a guy behind the counter inside, but the door was chained shut.
So I knocked on it.
No, I pounded on it. It’s urbanity. You don’t knock in the city.
And I noticed that the people who were hanging around the area started to then gather around me.
My pounding on the door of the gas station served as a sort of dinner bell for them.
They surrounded me and then started to shout, “OPEN THE DOOR!”
I fully realized I had somehow started a riot, but it was Thursday so whatever. I simply waited to see if the crowd would motivate the guy inside to get up and open the door so I could get my gas.
However, it did not.
Annoyed, I turned on my heel and gently pushed through the crowd and headed back to my car.
As I approached my vehicle, a man followed me from the riot crowd and softly called after me: “Hey hey hey.”
I don’t usually turn around when I hear “Hey hey hey” but I did this morning and I saw the man smile congenially with my regard and he then asked, “Do you want to buy some crack?”
“Not today. Thanks though.”
The man smiled and turned back to the riot crowd.
A good feeling filled my chest. In this very broad area (termed “heart of Milwaukee”), offering crack is like saying, “You take care now.”
So that day I drove away and found a different gas station which had the same crowd of people but which also offered gas.
Now I didn’t plan to ever go back to that gas station but it turns out it’s close to a bunch of my members’ homes so… the next time I needed gas, I came upon it again like a storm in a mirage.
Visit the Second
I warily drove by and noticed that a couple SUVs appeared to actively be getting gas from the pumps. So I then cautiously drove in and parked next to a pump.
I slowly got out of my car, scanning my immediate surroundings, and walked up to the building. A couple younger dudes opened the door for me. I thanked them.
“You getting gas?”
I headed to the scared looking man at the counter behind the glass inside but then suddenly turned to walk back towards the drinks to grab a soda for a member I was planning to see that afternoon (who later stood me up).
On my walk to the drinks fridge, a kid who was sitting on a pile of boxes by the front door, swinging his legs, shouted out, “Watch out! The floor is wet!”
He then turned to other people just standing around him near the entrance and said, “We should put up a sign.”
I smiled to myself and grabbed a soda and carefully walked back to the counter to pay for my gas.
I asked the man behind the glass if there was a key to the bathroom and he replied, his eyes open wide, “They stole it last night!”
I really had to go to the bathroom. So this was unfortunate news.
I thanked the scared man and walked back outside (the kids inside yelled, “Thank you! Come again!”).
I walked toward my car and saw that an older man was already there and standing next to my newest car.
He stood there, proudly.
As I continued to walk toward him, he in turn moved toward me, wearing a big smile, and introduced himself as “Memphis”.
“I’m going to show you some Southern hospitality!” Memphis said. He said this as he repeatedly finger-punched my gas hatch door.
It was very clear Memohis wasn’t going to take “I got this” for an answer so I walked around my car and opened the hatch door for him.
I walked back around the car to where Memphis was now holding a gas pump in his right hand and, with his left hand, he stood there with his pointer finger aimed at the fuel options, asking me, “Which one would you prefer?”
“Okay! Here you go! Southern hospitality!”
I muttered “For a price no doubt” but Memphis’ enthusiasm could not be dimmed. He was beaming with his purpose.
I walked around him to dig out a couple bucks from my bag and then handed it to him as he started to pump the gas.
I said, “I also have a $20 bill but I’m a social worker and I need that.“
Memphis turned to me and said, “Oh hell yeah you do, social workers don’t have no money.”
He thanked me for the $2 as if I’d given him a hundred.
While the gas pumped, Memphis told me that he’d been in prison for 15 years. He said he’d murdered someone when he was young. Memphis recalled a fight with a person who had a knife and Memphis felt he was in a fight for his life and managed to turn the knife on his attacker, stabbing him in his heart. The attacker later died in the hospital.
Memphis shook his head. “Shouldn’t have happened.”
Memphis then said we were going to pray. He folded his hands and bowed his head and then started to speak, “Whenever two or three gather in my name, I will be there…”
It was kind of jarring since that’s the Biblical verse that my pastor says when we begin communion at my church.
It’s a good verse. Always gives me chills. So it was especially interesting to be standing there – with Memphis – hearing him recite the same words there on the street… it was somewhat affirming.
Memphis complete his task of providing Southern hospitality and we shook hands and then he kissed my hand because that was how it’s done.
With all that’s going around, I didn’t want anyone’s saliva on my hands but I wasn’t going to ruin the moment.
Then I got in my car and waved back at Memphis as I drove back to the office BECAUSE I STILL HAD TO GO TO THE BATHROOM.
I had to drive all the way back to my office because there was no other place on Central Street to stop to use the bathroom on the way.
I then left my office to drive to another place to visit someone who wasn’t there.
Back to the haunted? house, June Carter Cash seems specifically terrified of the house now too. This is a change as now she seems super normal on our walks because she has discovered the footwork behind “playing”.
Which means she is now terrible at walks. But that’s okay because she is coming alive.
Yet, when we get back from walks or outings, she now refuses to come inside.
This is new.
My favorite plant has also died, after being hauled all over the place, living in different states and with different people. ☹️
But… we trudge on. If the house is malevolently haunted then it should really appreciate how I plan to deck it out today.
Home Depot has its Christmas stuff out now so I couldn’t buy my finishing touches but… I’m excited to see what the house looks like by the end of the day. 🥰
What a wild world. It feels like the wildness is palpable and I haven’t heard so many Bible verses since I was a kid in parochial school, thanks to my new job which requires a lot of home visits where people’s faith is very strong. If the humble and meek and poor shall inherit the earth, it’s happening.
From this accused witch to you, Happy Halloween to all, and may there be peace on earth.
Well, maybe in the next world.
Or in Canada.
11 thoughts on “Our House Is Trying to be Haunted: Fun New Things”
Decapitated squirrels, lethal mushrooms, overwhelming spider webs – sounds like you’re definitely winding up for Halloween early this year! I would totally trust June Carter Cash’s take on whatever’s manifesting in the house – maybe it’s time for an exorcism? LOL
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Happy Halloween, dear Hestie! 🖤😘
Bahahahaha! Yes! EXORCISM TIME! I’m hoping it’s the house and yard getting into the spirit but… if this shit doesn’t know it off by Christmas, I’m bringing in the Catholics. 😂
Happy Halloween dear Emma! 🖤
There may be peace in Canada if people would stop desecrating our flag as an anti-government protest symbol. I’m not worried about your house being haunted because I feel that you have the power to control the energy there in the best possible way. If anyone is a ghost, it’s June Carter. I love your interactions with the good people of Milwaukee. Happy Halloween!
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It’s pretty terrible everywhere, isn’t it, dear Naomi. 😔 But you’re so sweet. Sigh. I’ll do my best! I am having trouble just dismissing all the weird noises as “it’s an old house” but… what is there to do?
I love the people here. It’s so great to have such positive interactions in such desperate areas. 🖤 Hugs to you and Happy Halloween! 🎃
Somewhere I have a photo of my elderly cat, Snit, standing over the headless body of his squirrel nemesis. (It had been taunting him for days. He bided his time.)
Fezzik, another of our dearly departed, had a particular penchant for the heads of bunnies and squirrels. (Just the heads, usually.)
You got kitty neighbors?
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Hello dear Lisa… I’m sorry, I just got this! Do you feel Snit, after a respectable amount of time spent stalking, killed the squirrel? I like thinking that.
And your poor dear Fezzik… yes indeed. Cats do tend to love a good beheading. It was probably cats… we do have strays or free-roaming domestics who show up randomly in our strange little backyard. It was probably one of them. I love that.
That squirrel was the WORST. lol
Snit vs The Squirrel–
In his day, Snit had been the alpha predator of our back yard, but in the fullness of time he had grown old and slow. So this squirrel. He kept scampering up and down and around and around the bottom eight feet of the tree where Snitty Kitty lay, trash talking the entire time, twitching his fuzzy butt in Snit’s face. Snit maintained his equanimity. The tiny twitch of the tip of his tail was the only indication that the squirrel had his full attention.
I can only surmise that Fuzz Butt finally grew too cocky in the face of all that feline indifference. A couple days later, there was Snit, proudly presenting the carcass of his nemesis, sans head.
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It seems appropriate to share this with you today. I can’t personally attest to effectiveness, just…it’s interesting.
I only ran across it a couple days ago.
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Oh man. Evidently, I don’t understand how TikTok works. If you click on the last link: ♬ original sound – Abbey Sobota 👻, you get to her post on cleansing spirits from your home. And I’m rolling my eyes, now, reading what I just wrote. But it really was compelling and comforting.
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