Ah, a peaceful Sunday morning, and it has turned into such a beautiful day, NOT!
I couldn’t sleep but a couple of hours last night; I have more work promised than I could ever accomplish; it is frigid cold outside; and whatever it is that haunts this house is running amok this morning.
A couple hours ago, I went downstairs for a cup of coffee, noticed the pretty snowcaps on the distant peaks, froze my you-know-what off trying to get one shot good enough to post, and returned to the much warmer second floor to download the pictures.
About the time I had them loaded and selected the shot to put up, I started hearing voices. Now voices in this mostly vacant house are not at all unusual, but most of the time I can make out gender and even some hint as to the age of the voices, but rarely are they audible enough to actually follow the conversations. This time was different; I could clearly hear the words and make out whole sentences.
Now, in my bedroom I have an alarm clock radio. You should understand that I have NEVER in my life used an alarm. My internal clock is more accurate and always has me awake at the proper time. Also I have never used the radio feature on the clock, because I don’t listen to radio.
After several minutes I when down to discover the never been used radio was on and tuned to a station. I had to find a spare pair of glasses so that I could see the tiny control buttons and shut it off. I was stymied but not concerned.
I returned to the loft, finished a couple of small jobs and was setting up to start the eye-bleeder that I should be working on now, when there was an odd crash like sound that came from my office. I had a stack of #10 envelopes on a bookshelf sitting under a couple of books that I hadn’t refiled yet. Somehow they got out from under the books and strew themselves across the floor.
By this time I knew my little haunts were playing games. I see their shadows frequently and I already told you I hear them talking and laughing. They have never presented any danger, so I abide their presence with some amusement.
But today, they are being a bigger pain-in-the-ass than that Tsarina you hear me reference once in a while (okay, all of the time).
The radio turned back on.
That inspired me to write a quick email note to my partner and Royal PITA in case she had suddenly developed telekinesis and was playing games with me all the way from Denmark. While I awaited her answer, I got up and started down the stairs; I was at the half way point when the radio turned off by itself. I went into the bedroom and checked the controls; they were securely in the off position. I chuckled to myself and wondered if it were my resident shadow people, or the pranks of an international brat.
If all of that were not enough to keep my day interesting, my poor Sebastian, who is normally peacefully asleep on my lap while I am working, is now alert and watchful with his little head twitching up-and-down and side-to-side like he is following some non-existent bug flying around the room. If it is only my friendly ghosts, I am happy to play their games, but if this turns out to be the multi-talented Adrianna, I will exact an appropriate revenge.
Ah, a peaceful Sunday morning, and it has turned into such a beautiful day.