Of a spiritual nature...

When I started down this blogg-y path, I didn't set very clear parameters about what I would or would not touch on. However my basic guidelines in life are: steer clear of unwanted discussions regarding sex, politics and religion. Many people have strong beliefs and this blogge is not meant to be a platform for my own dearly held beliefs or a launching point for controversy. I say all that as a lead in: I'm about to tip toe down one of those paths. You are welcome to follow...

In 1991, we moved into my Mother-in-law's house. She had remarried and didn't want to sell the house so we rented it. Over the years, we'd spent a lot of time there and of course heard the stories. My MIL was very sure someone lived there with them and often told the story of the matchbook that came up off the buffet and hit my FIL in the back of the head. Since he was kind of a poop, I couldn't blame any spiritual forces for singling him out for a demonstration. Rumor had it the the center of all the energy was in the basement where the kids bedrooms were, but it was a year before I felt anything down there and it was nothing more that the hair on the back of my neck kind of thing. The kids felt nothing.

About that same time, my mom was coming from out of town for a visit and I went to my jewelery box to get the watch she'd given me. Both she and my dad had given me one for Christmas and it was worth your sanity to be wearing the correct one in front of the correct parent. (they were divorced). My mom's watch was gone. I quizzed the kids and the husband and no one knew anything. Searched the house, nothing. I went bare wristed that weekend but it continued to bother me that the watch would come up missing. A few months later, I took my daughter out horseback riding. We stopped for gas and I reached down to pull the gas lever next to the driver's seat. It felt weird. I looked down and there was the watch my mother had given me... wrapped tightly around the gas release lever and clasped. There' s no way I put it there and no way it had been there for months. I could not explain it, and talking about it made me feel woo woo. I'm not woo woo... I'm very practical. I told my husband and then tried to let it go.

A few months later, I spilled taco sauce on my white rayon dress. I hung the dress in the hall closet (the bedroom closet was too small for my clothes) when I got home knowing the dry cleaner would have his hands full. Taco sauce... white dress... yeah, I was bummed. I kept forgetting to take it to the cleaners and a week or so later was in the closet trying to decide what to wear, I pulled the dress out to lay it on the chair so I'd remember to take it in. But oddly enough, the stain.WAS.GONE. I knew better than to ask my husband if he'd taken it in for me because it's not his style and even if he had, he would have left it in the plastic. I told him and he poo-pooed it. I told one of the girls at work and she gave me the psycho woo-woo look. I quit talking about it.

Other things disappeared and reappeared in my life...often my jewelery. Most notably, my opal earrings which I found when we moved out. Those were in the top of the linen closet behind all the sheets. I couldn't even reach up there without a chair.

I do not know what was in the house, but I did feel like a target and because of that, I felt like my credibility was at stake since no one else was affected. My MIL believed me and felt that whoever was there liked me as much as they disliked my FIL. Who knows... but it made for a very interesting few years...