Because My House is Haunted…

I’m convinced my place is haunted.  No real big deal there and I don’t mean to sound all cavalier and cool about it but no big deal there.  Most places where I have taken up residence for more than a few months comes around to being haunted.  Usually it is just bump in the night kind of stuff, but I’m sure it is only a matter of time until I finally catch one of the little buggers in the other room nibbling on a doughnut.

Oh, how badly I miss my cat.  Klick Klack Kitty Cat feared nothing, except lightning and loud noises.  In fact, Klick Klack would get ornery an hour before a storm, giving that glaring “if you don’t do something I am not going to be happy” look I knew only too well.  But it took only one nearby lightning strike and an explosion of thunder and that cat disappeared like a genie in a bottle.  I never figured out where she went…or how she got there, literally in a flash.  (I really believe she disappeared, angry and disappointed.  And don’t we all have a little taste of that in our life?)

Other than that, Klick Klack Kitty Cat backed down to nothing.

Spooky

Cats, being supernatural beings, offer special guidance in things spooked, haunted, and unexplained   I always felt a little comfort having Klick Klack Kitty Cat nearby at night.

A stalwart negotiator, that cat, she simply stood her ground until she got her way.  Tonight, alas, Klick Klack chases birds in Paradise, having crossed over to the other side — permanently this time  a few years ago — and I am left behind to look after myself.

I’m especially tuned into the hauntings tonight because I wrecked my headphones, or at least the wire connecting the phones to a jack that gets plugged into my sound-making device.  The headphones were shorting out and I thought the best thing I could do was to pull apart some wires so I could get a look at the problem.  That’s when I remembered — too late — that modern gadgets aren’t designed to be repaired.  They’re designed to be replaced.  Now mine needs to be replaced.  A new cable plug in thing probably will cost me twelve bucks…

Ok, wait…Bring it back.  What the hell was I talking about?  The hauntings.  Focus on the hauntings.  Yes, I know headphones and all of this make little sense together, but hauntings don’t make much sense either.  Read on.

Perdita clears the cobwebs around here.

So as I was saying — or at least trying to say until I got distracted — an hour doesn’t go by without a boom or a crack or the sound of spilling glass pouring from an empty corner of the house.  Remaining focused is a challenge.  And I am getting jumpy.

And outside — oh, outside, what a scary place that is — thousands of sleepless birds — gulls, probably — gather in large rafts, bacchanal style, on the lake and really put an eerie, doom-is-looming touch to things.  Really quite creepy, especially when I think I hear something rummaging through my saltines.

No, no rodents.  No signs of them.  And I don’t expect it.  I really suspect that what I have here are little buggers.  You know, a clan of hobbits or maybe an incubus or two.  I’d prefer a sprite — what was Tinkerbell? — but I think I have buggers.

A teacher once scolded me, telling me “bugger” wasn’t a nice thing to say.  So I had to look it up.  (He was right.)

You know…no rodents, noises in the kitchen, invisible things falling in the night…could it be Klick Klack Kitty Cat, that furry prankster, visiting from the other side having a little fun?  Probably payback for the family Christmas pictures I took each year…

One of these nights — I know it is going to happen because I am taunting them (they must read my blog) — a shimmering milky plasma will call my name from the other room and then it is game over.   I’ll shiver like a school girl, teeth clattering under my sheets, and pray for an early dawn.

Hell, that sounds a lot like last night!

You know, I once knew a woman in Arizona.  She told me she had an aunt named Perdition.  I wonder if that was true.  Perdita I could accept.  Perdition seems like a cruelty.  But families get big in Arizona, especially Mesa.  Sooner or later someone will insist only Perdition could be suitable.

I knew another woman once.  She should have been named Hell on Fire, but she wasn’t.  Or Chop Sissy.  I like Chop Sissy.  It fits somehow, but Hell on Fire isn’t far from the mark certainly.

How much time do I have left?  Not much.  And I do appreciate you staying with me this long.  (You must value your time poorly.)  So now as the sands run thin and the night turns past the midnight hour, let’s complete the lead.

Because my house is haunted, I plan to have an old Scottish poem drawn in some suitable manner so I can frame it and place it on a wall in my bedroom.  And here it is:

From ghoulies and ghosties
And long-leggedy beasties
And things that go bump in the night
Good Lord, deliver us!

Isn’t that delightful?  It is a must have for me and I think I know just the guy to draw it up for me, too.  My friend Scott Seekins is that guy.  Something dark, moody, with a touch of Gothic or Victorian…hmm, what to call it?…let’s call it dark innocence.

Damn, did you hear that?  Something just crashed in the other room!  Probably just a pad of paper blown off the table.  Or maybe a ghost.  Good Lord, deliver us!  Or deliver me, at least.

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Photos of Cats Around the House

Happy Holidays!

Last night was a very good night of dreams.  Indeed they were productive dreams.  I kept waking up with a lot to think about.  The simplest of all is a kind of epiphany.  An eye-opener.

I keep a picture of myself and my cat Klick Klack Kitty Cat, who passed on to the other side several years ago and now chases birds in Paradise.  It is a holiday picture, as you can see here.  Lovely, isn’t it?

Well, I really did like that cat.  Still do.  She was a great friend and kept things in order around here.  But that picture was staged as a joke, one that my cat wasn’t all that eager to share.  (Throughout our short photo shoot she wanted nothing to do with any of it.  That picture is her most pleasant smile of the set.)

I was emceeing an office holiday party that included a gift exchange.  My gift was part legit and part gag (mostly gag, I had a back up).  My gift was a framed holiday picture of myself and Klick Klack Kitty Cat.  You kind of had to be around the office at the time to get it.  My cat was familiar topic in meetings.

I get a kick out of the picture as often get a kick out of simple and silly things so I keep it along side pictures of friends and family in my dining room.

In one of last night’s dreams this came up in an odd and round about way.  When I woke up my first thought was:  Whoops.

I wonder how many friends — women in particular — have stopped over and started thinking a bit more than they should when they saw a framed picture of my cat and me celebrating the Christmas holidays.  I do have a picture of my Grandmother in the mix, but I don’t even have a picture of parents out on the stand!  I am not the sentimental type when it comes to framed pictures.  (I don’t have the space and don’t care for the clutter.  I have enough of that, too.)

So what do I do?  Remove the picture and share it only on special occasions?  Write an explanation on a Post-It note?  Or do I leave it and wait for someone to understand?

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The Lost Episode

I’ll get back to editing and whittling down my “About Dogs” post later.  Until then you can go and enjoy all that it has to offer in its raw form.  In the meantime I want to share something that makes me smile:  Sponge Bob’s Lost Episode!

Sponge Bob Hamming It Up.

A little secret…When I worked in Rochester I laid up at the downtown Radisson with my cat.  Yes, it is true.  Klick Klack Kitty Cat was a good traveller and she enjoyed the attention she received at the Radisson Hotel.  Milk, cookies, walks down the hall…the staff at the Radisson took good care of Klick Klack while I was out in the field during the day.

 

But I would get back to the hotel early enough to catch Sponge Bob Square Pants, always guaranteed to cheer me up whether I needed it or not.

 

One week Kitty Cat and I got worked up when we saw promos for Sponge Bob’s lost episode.   We would not miss it.  I believe I cancelled a late appointment just to be sure to get back to the hotel room in time for the show.  (In fact I know I did.)

 

Was it worth it?  Well…kind of.  The skit leading up to Sponge Bob’s lost episode is…well…a lot of fill, but Sponge Bob — in typical form — was brilliant!  High art.  Genius.   Klick Klack and I have to admit that it was all a bit over our head.  Too sophisticated, likely appealing to East Coast elites and European flaneurs more than two Midwestern hicks like Klick Klack and me.  (Fact Check:  Klick Klack Kitty Cat is an Arizona native and does not take to the Midwestern slur well.) 

 

Over time, however — the reruns later that night, in fact — Klick Klack and I saw the genius of it all.  We went from feeling completely taken, to feeling blessed. 

 

I like to think that a lot of my clients feel the same way.  What at first might seem like a cheap sham could actually bring a lot of joy.  What Sponge Bob and his lost episode taught me was the importance of looking at things twice.  I think we should all do that…look at things twice…and we might end up being much better for it.

 

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