The house I live in has many peculiarities. Some days I thought there was a ghost. Weird noises go with an old house on a concrete block foundation in an area where the ground is shifting. But late at night I would hear what sounded like voices, undecipherable murmuring just on the range of hearing. I would get up to see if my neighbors were out in their yard and no one would be there, front, back or side. The front bedroom door shows evidence of have been forced and the hardware of the latch changed. I disliked that room from the beginning and chose the tiny back bedroom for sleeping. The bathroom door shows strange splintering as well. So the old house has a past.
Some things are just trivial and annoying but must be dealt with nonetheless. Some things are just stiff with age like the difficult damper handle in the fireplace and some things are the result of shoddy work done over the years. For example, the house was painted before I moved in but the trim was full of holes from curtain rods past and adhesive on the sills where someone had shrink wrapped plastic sealant sheets to the windows. There was a nail sticking out of the middle of the window frame and the first time I raised the blind four slats caught on the nail and split. I was able to tape them back together but why did I have to bother? Why would someone hammer a small nail into the middle of a window frame in the first place? Anywhere else I have seen a place painted before move in, the trim was done; proof being nice clean trim with no holes and often windows painted shut by overenthusiastic painters.
Other things are annoying and more than trivial. Shingles are breaking off the roof, the back porch, made of concrete, is cracked down the middle and the top step is crumbling out from underfoot. The front porch is not as bad, the steps have broken away from the porch and like the old saying, you have to “Watch out for that first step, it’s a doozy!!”. Neither front or back have railings. The back gutter is coming down, the hangers have pulled out and need to be re-set in new places. I’ve already had my yard man put it back twice and he refuses to touch it again, wouldn’t even clean out the leaves last year.
On another level, there are things that are a little creepy. Some days I think I have borrowers. My Irish grandmother taught me about borrowers. Things in the house disappear and reappear later in strange places. According to my grandmother, if it was something you really needed you had to ask out loud, but politely, to have it back. Things constantly disappear in this house and turn up in strange places. I could be careless, inattentive or stressed but this went on for over three years. It happens less often lately. I am focused and being more mindful these days, nonetheless it is still happening and it is still unsettling.
The front bedroom, the one with the warped and battered door, was unnaturally cold from the very first day I moved in. Considering that was in August in Virginia, a very hot, humid place and time and that the house had no air conditioning, it was quite distinctive. When I had fiber optic installed for an internet connection the only place to conveniently place the box was in that room but I thought at least the colder temperature would be good for the Mac tower. Mosby would sit on the desk while I worked. I never liked the room though, and more and more worked on my laptop elsewhere. When I found out the attic had unhealthy insulation, I moved everything stored there into “the cold room”.
When I moved the Mac I kept the door shut to isolate the cold and keep the cats out. When Mosby got sick he began to have minor hemorrhages and would run into the room and climb almost to the ceiling on the shelves and boxes, where I would have to go and calm him and coax him down to be cleaned and cuddled. He could open latches and doors, and that dysfunctional door was no bar to him. After he died the only time I went into the room for over a year was to re-boot the cheapo router from the internet company.
I moved the Mac in the front room. I got a storage unit and and moved things into it until the room was cleared. It was still cold. I got several cans of spray foam crack sealer, tool apart the storm windows and sprayed around the windows until I’d used up all the foam, then replaced the glass storm panes and taped them shut, since they are damaged and won’t close properly. I never wanted the cats in there because Mini and Mosby both liked to hang out there, as did Tony for a while later on, and they all got seriously ill and died. It was still cold even as the weather was getting warmer.
So I resorted to the extreme, performing a series of clearing rituals and a kind of exorcism. In my checkered past I studied with a Korean mudang (shaman) and I also studied Taoism and Feng Shui. I threw everything I had learned into those rituals. Finally, the room held a more normal temperature. Interestingly, the rest of the cats no longer want to go into that room. It remains mostly empty. Meanwhile the rest of the house continues to deteriorate, no wonder there is negative energy. And I can’t seem to get viewable pictures. Hmmmm.
This was scheduled for Wednesday April 12. It never posted. Apparently the problem extends even to posting about the house.