Kitchen. (Don’t mind the festive looking buck head.)
Sometimes, while I’m lying on the living room couch, the dog or the cat will suddenly whip their head up to the same corner of the ceiling, eyes like dinner plates. No amount of arm flailing or name calling breaks either of them from their trance; it’s only when whatever has demanded their attention breaks its grip that one of them looks at me with a “what?”. Creepy, to say the least.
A few months ago I was standing in our kitchen. Joe was either upstairs, or not home at all. I can’t remember. But what I do remember is the deep voice, slightly drunk, calling out a nonchalant “hey” directly behind me. I almost gave myself whiplash, turning to see who the hell had broken into my house and was now trying to make conversation. But when I turned all I saw was the refrigerator, the kitchen table, the basement door. Nothing else. My heart leapt high into my throat with that feeling you get when you almost drop the turkey on Thanksgiving day. I told Joe, I told my best friend, we discussed and let it go.
Today I scrubbed the house from top to bottom, in anticipation of the in-laws arriving tomorrow. As I vacuumed the kitchen rugs the two dogs swarmed me, barking and biting at the vacuum because it’s their sworn enemy. With my back to the table in the photo, vacuum roaring and dogs barking, I suddenly heard another “HEY”, or something like it, boom clearly over every other noise. I had that heart-leaping-out-of-my-throat feeling again, immediately, and when I whirled around I expected to see Joe standing behind me, telling the dogs, like usual, to knock it the hell off. Besides being startled my first thought had been “what is he doing home from work?”; but, like before, there was no one there. I texted him right away.
After Googling a bunch of nonsense I decided to take that photo. I don’t see any strange white orb thingies floating around, or any faces in the shadow on the basement door. All I see is a nice clean kitchen (hey, I’d just spent an hour scrubbing the countertops). I’m not sure what I believe in when it comes to the paranormal, but this experience – and the kooky relationship between the animals and the living room ceiling – has me seriously thinking something is floating around this house. I mean, it is sixty-something years old.
Does anyone else find themselves experiencing strange sounds or feelings in their own home? Maybe it’s all in my head.