And here we are again....together for a ride on the fun-filled, triple dipped in psycho, train of thought that belongs to me. I'm pretty sure you remember from my first blogs where I had a warning that you need to wear seat belts sometimes, while reading my stuff. Even I never know where my thoughts...and my attention span...is going to lead us to.
I mentioned in my last blog about squatters. It's pretty amazing that I remembered that without having it written down and not going back and re-reading my previous blog but I guess this has been in the back of my mind for so long, it's here to stay. Or maybe I just need to "talk" about it and it will go away.
Either way, you're here...I'm here...we're doing this.
A while back...quite a while back, actually...a friend of mine posted an article about these people finding a squatter that had lived in their home for quite a long time. I always thought that was interesting that they didn't recognize for a while, that things may have been moved or sounds that maybe didn't "add up right." I mean, these squatters HAVE to move their bodies at some point, right???
If you check it out, the stories are there. Hundreds of them I suppose. Here's one that I was recently reading: Creepers...and that's what they are. Most of them are just people that have had a run of bad luck and don't have a place to live. I feel sorry for people that have to live on the street. I don't care what their mental status is, everybody should have a roof over their head and some heat to keep them warm. Especially when it's Arctic cold here, like it has been.
So anyway, this friend posted an article on Facebook about a squatter that had been living in the attic of a family's home for many, many months. I read it and made a comment about how creep-tastic that would be to find out someone had been living with you and probably seen you running around half-naked...or even naked...or doing some things that are very private...and you didn't even know it.
I'm sure we've all had that feeling of "someone is watching me." I know I have. It gives me chills but I think it makes me anxious at the same time.
Like I said, this was quite a while back that I saw this article and I'm not going to go sifting through the hundreds of stories to find the exact one. There are too many just like it anyway.
Now, I have also mentioned before that we have had some kind of "spirit" that was in our home when we bought it. I used to have to go in search of my lid to the laundry soap because it was never on top of the bottle but always in the laundry room. The lights in our upstairs (what used to be the great room and will soon be our master bedroom) flashed many times in the night and not once did it ever concern me. Quintin used to get up very early and go to work and I would hear someone going down the steps or up the steps (before we carpeted them). It's pretty easy to tell if someone is going up or down by the way the sounds comes and goes.
The first time I heard someone going down the steps, I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs saying "Who is here?" And that was before I owned guns. It never occurred to me to be scared of what it COULD be. Anyway, nobody ever answered me and it continued for months. I just ignored it eventually and didn't notice anymore.
I don't know if I ever told the story about one summer we slept on our livingroom floor. We put down the futon mattress and a microfiber pad on top. We only have one vent in the whole upstairs and that was in the great room. NOT in our bedroom. So it go very hot in there...even with a box fan and ceiling fan. Quintin got up and had put Bear (my precious baby, may he rest in peace) outside before he went to work. I was asleep on the mattress and I felt...what I thought was Bear...playing with my hands, that were hanging off the top of the mattress in front of me.
I tried to grab him to make him lay back down with me and couldn't get him. So of course I look around and he's nowhere in sight. I go check outside and he's on his lead out there, playing in the back yard. I will never forget that feeling of "something" in my hands.
So recently, I have mentioned that maybe we have a squatter of-sorts in our home. Quintin again, thinks I am very silly BUT one night he and I were in the kitchen making dinner together and we both heard a noise like someone was walking across the room above the dining room. This is the room that is being transformed (at a very slow rate I might add) into our master bedroom. We both heard it. We both turned our heads. We both leaned toward the door to see if someone had come into our house.
Of course Quintin keeps talking away. It only stumped him for a second and half apparently. Not me. I love this kinda stuff. As he is talking, I walk to the door that joins the kitchen and diningroom and just stand there listening to him rattle on but really listening for more sounds from upstairs. He eventually just stops talking because he doesn't realize what I'm doing and my back is completely turned to him at this point.
Very quietly I say to him, "Keep talking." The man never listens! He just stares at me because now he doesn't know what to talk about. Apparently whatever he was going on and on about before this second, wasn't interesting enough to keep talking about! I don't hear anything so I turn to him and say, "You heard it too. Why aren't you interested at all in what caused it???" He just shrugged it off and said that the house was probably just settling.
Settling. Uh-huh. You big chicken.
Yes, I went upstairs and checked EVERYWHERE. Under beds. Behind totes. In the closets. The only other place anyone could ever be in is the attic but he has that screwed shut so.....or does he? Maybe they started out as screws and our visitor has altered it a little bit. Hmmm I should check that out. I love to freak myself out, can you tell?
OK, so the other instance that I will tell you about is this. One day I was upstairs and Buddy was with me. He doesn't let me get too far from his side because he wants to rub his nose into everything I do. Literally. I was cleaning our bedroom and changing sheets and pillow cases...just having a great day at home...when out of the corner of my eye, I see "something" move from my closet to the master-in-progress.
Now, I know I saw something because Buddy saw it too. He and I both walked into the other room to see what we had just "seen." All I can tell you is that it was a big, dark "thing." Of course we saw nothing. Again, I checked under everything, inside everything, between everything. Touching walls, doors, windows, you name it. Nothing anywhere.
So what do you think? What is your take on this? Do you think I'm any more nuts than I was the last time we talked?? And again, this "person or thing" doesn't really scare me too much. I'm just curious.
Curious as to HOW they can survive in my home without us knowing it. Curious to know HOW we don't know they have taken a shower...or that they stink. Curious to know WHAT they eat because I find it rare to like what I keep in my own house.
And the last thing I am curious about is WHY DON'T THEY HELP CLEAN THE HOUSE? Heck, I may give them an actual bed to sleep in if they are going to pitch in. And a towel and shampoo. And I might buy them some good food and let them eat at the table like a normal person. Seriously, what is going on in my house???
So there's my squatter story. My co-worker thinks it could be a squatter but when I go back over how fast I would be on this "persons" tail as they went through the house, they'd have to know how to disappear into thin air. But the more stories I read, I am finding out that these people hide in plain sight and that is why they don't get caught for a long time.
I guess time will tell. Maybe he or she will read my blog one of these days and pick up a broom when we are out. Maybe I will come home to a shining, spotless house. Or maybe I will just keep dreaming.
Until next time...keep warm and thanks for reading!
(Got a topic you want me to screw up and give my opinion on? Let me know. My brain seems to be fried on the topic part these days!)
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