Sunday, January 29, 2006

Running From The Ghosts

My family was very open to paranormal experiences and, every now and then, each one of us harboured the memories of an event that we wouldn't share with the others.

I was no exception. Whenever there was nobody home, I heard the sound of running on the front porch. I could hear feet running from one end of the wooden porch to the other and back again. This would last for a few minutes. Then, after one last run back and forth, I could always hear the sound of the metal screen door being sharply kicked.

For a while, I didn't think about it. For a while, I'd forget about the porch. Then, when next I was alone, I would hear the running and the final kick again. Eventually, I realized that I could hear the running from any point in the house (and it didn't occur to me as strange, actually).

Then, one day, after my mother left to do some errands, I cranked the volume on my stereo. That was when it hit me: I could still hear the running. So, being as young as I was, I thought that this indicated that I was losing my mind: if it were actually happening, there would be times and places at which I wouldn't be able to hear it. I swore to myself that I would never speak of this to anyone.

One evening, my mother opened my bedroom door to tell me that she was going to work.

"Could you keep your door open for your sister?" My mother asked me.
"Uh, I guess," I replied. To me, it was a strange request.

We lived in an old mid-19th century home. My bedroom was on the second floor directly across from my sister's room. Then as now, I liked my privacy so I had only begrudgingly agreed.

"Why? Doesn't ---- want to be alone?"
"No, she just doesn't like to hear the ghosts on the porch."

My secret experience had been paranormal after all and not so secret. As it turned out, everyone in the family was aware of "the ghosts on the porch".

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Feverish Activity

I finally secured daycare for my little girl. Now, knock wood, my troubles are over. We have enrolled her in a fantastic daycare, part-time, and, though I'm nervous about it, I know that this is a good thing. She needs to be around children her age in order to learn more about successful social navigation.

She has been sick lately which, in part, explains my absence from the blog. She has had a nasty cold/flu with a fever and this has kept me up at night with worry. I know that the fever is her body's means of fighting the infection but, when it gets high, it is extremely frightening.

We have watched many DVDs--selected on her own--and read many books.

I have to note that her favourite book for the last month or so is still Babar and The Ghost by Laurent de Brunhoff. She absolutely loves this story. (Spoiler ahead.) It wonderfully illustrates how confusing the common adult stance that 'ghosts don't exist' can be to children. Babar and his wife, Celeste, though they have inexplicable events involving object levitation and driverless cars, cannot allow themselves to say that ghosts exist. In fact, Babar goes so far as to actually warn the ghost to stay away and thereby acknowledges its presence but, in the end, reverts back to a skeptical posture.

Our little girl asks us to read it everyday, twice: at naptime and at bedtime. I wonder when she'll tire of it! I mean, she will get tired of it...Won't she...?

Saturday, January 14, 2006


There isn't much to write about since my vacation started: I'm catching up on reading and writing, cleaning, watching movies that often feature Steve Buscemi. (I think he is my favourite actor).

I just may have solved my childcare problems: Scully and I have an appointment with a daycare/nursery school in a neighbouring town on Monday. How difficult it is to find daycare in this province! Could it be? Could it really be??

I recently joined a gym and I have been trying to keep a low profile, changing subjects in conversations before anyone can ask me, "What do you do for a living?" So far, people, if they recognize me, have not said anything, thankfully. Two of the staff know and I've been asked questions in a very low-key manner. Some people look at me as if they might have seen me somewhere but can't quite recall...

I've been booking appointments steadily as usual and I even broke my "no working on Saturday" rule by responding to some business email today.

I spent the entire morning doing millions of loads of laundry while listening to edgy covers of Billy Joel songs.

As this post amply illustrates, life as a psychic is pretty mundane this week.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

A Ghost Washes Up

At five o'clock this morning, my mother heard the sound of water running in the bathtub. She assumed, naturally, that someone was taking a bath.

One floor below, my sister lay wide awake listening to the sounds of water being splashed about in the bathtub. She, too, assumed that someone was taking a bath.

This morning, they both discovered that everyone else in the house had been asleep, nobody had taken a bath.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

As The House Settles Down Tonight

"This house really spooks you," I observed while my husband and I were turning in for the night just a little while ago.

"Yes! It does..."

Scully is a scientist and, before meeting me, he had never thought seriously about the existence of ghosts. Now, he is extremely open-minded.

Our little girl continued over the holidays to speak about ghosts. She actually is talking about (1) the ghostly characters in cartoons like the Backyardigans and (2) her ghost named, "Ollie". (She actually spoke of ghosts around the home before being introduced to the images of popular culture. When she started to talk about seeing ghosts, I decided that I needed to teach her to be unafraid and to speak openly with me about her experiences.)

Late this afternoon, we ventured out to the backyard and she insisted on going up to the potting shed again. She knocked on the door.

I asked her, this time as before, "Who lives there?"

"Ollie lives there."

So, Ollie lives in our house and, according to our two-year-old, in the potting shed. Fascinating. I have seen him around but not very often. She sees him often.

The other day, I heard her telling him that I had put a tablecloth on her little table:

"My Mummy do that. Not fair." (Funny, she didn't say anything when I put it on the table.)

Anyway, I just couldn't fall asleep tonight, so I came down to my office.