I actually think that this is a great idea…a grammar thread. I think that, for the most part, I have a pretty reasonable grasp on how good English grammar works. There’s always room for improvement, though. I’m sure that the Grammar Nazis, lurking in the Void, are going to say I have made mistakes in all of my posts. Meh. Point taken and filed for future use. It all depends on how said grammatical offences are posed. I personally think the name-calling and mean-spiritedness that creeps into our conversations has no validity. It’s just rude, mean behaviour that negates anything that’s meant to educate. I think I actually have that book floating around here, somewhere. Perhaps I should find it and read it. Yer never to old to to learn something new.

I ‘m not so much worried about my future, as at 53 I still have some time to regroup and make plans. My poor dad, though. He’s 90 and has insurance annuities and a stock portfolio. I’m his guardian and caregiver, so I handle all his financial stuff. I’ve called the companies several times to find out how his stuff is doing, and I either get the runaround or no one will return my calls. Very frustrating!

About 10 years ago, my kids and I lived in this big, old, two-storey house for nearly 6 years, that was built in 1902. It was converted into an upstairs/downstairs duplex back in the early 50s. We lived in the ground floor unit. Since it was such an old place, there was no soundproofing betwixt up and down. We could hear everything from downstairs. And I mean EVERYTHING! We experienced all manner of strangeness there. Never felt threatened, but it was unnerving, at times. The livingroom vibrated. Just the livingroom. If you sat in this one chair, you could really feel it. You could see the plants shaking. It never happened in any other room. And the place would groan like an animal. I kept telling myself it was an old house and old houses make noise. Several times, when I was absolutely certain there was no one at home upstairs, we’d hear footsteps. Again, chalked it up to being an old house. But, how can one explain this when that unit was completely empty betwixt tenants? It happened all the time. Many times when I was in my room, I’d catch a glimpse of something walking past my door, and another door somewhere in the house would slam. Thinking it was my teenaged daughter coming home from school or work, I’d go to say hi. I was always surprised to find myself completely alone in the house. Well, except for my cats, but they don’t appear to be 6 foot tall. The front door of the building led into a foyer that used to be the original front porch. As you entered, my front door was to your right, and to your left was a staircase that went up five steps, hit a landing and turned, and went another eight steps to the front door of the upstairs apartment. You could really tell which was the original section and which was the new section of the staircase. I could always hear if someone opened the door and came into the foyer. I’d wait for a knock at my door, or footsteps going upstairs. If they went up, I’d be a good/nosy neighbour and let them know there was nobody home upstairs and could I relay a message. About half the time, I heard footsteps…and no one would be there. After experiencing this several times, I’d just go bang on the neighbour’s door, to see if they were home, and they never were. I think the original staircase came down into the livingroom, where my sofa was. If you were sitting in one particular spot, you could sometimes feel an intense cold go through you. It was drafty there, but I don’t think that was necessarily the reason for that happening every, single time. My daughter’s room was a creepy one. I could never quite figure out what it had once been. It was off the kitchen and under the original part of the stairs. There were no windows…only a little, three-foot tall door that opened to the outdoors, on the side of the house. In the middle of the night, she’d be sleeping only to be awoken by the sound of feet going up and down the steps. Up and down, up and down. The rest of the house would be quiet…just noise in her room. The first time it happened, it freaked her out, and she called me at work. Thinking it was a burgler (the upstairs was empty at the time), I called 911 and flew home on the freeway, from Seattle, where I wrorked graveyard. I arrived, and the police were still there. Everything had been locked up tighter than a drum, and they reported no intruders. The next few times it happened, I happened to be home. She came out of her room, white as a sheet, and told me to come hear the noise. Yes….up and down…up and down…over and over again. We sat on her bed listening for over an hour. During this time, I’d gone out into the foyer a few times, expecting to see someone, but no…the stairs were empty. I couldn’t hear them from out there, but I could definitly hear them from in her room. There were all sorts of things like that, the entire time we lived there. Just weird, unexplainable happenings that both of my children and friends of the family would also experience. It wasn’t scary, just very creepy. Even all the different upstairs neighbours would have tales of odd things going on in their space. One incident, in particular, stands out. The guy upstairs, Kevin, was downstairs visiting my son and I..just hanging out chatting and watching TV. His girlfriend, Kay’D, was at work and didn’t get off until midnight. We were just sitting there when all of a sudden their TV upstairs came on, full blast. Kevin looked puzzled and wondered why she was home so early. We all trudged upstairs to say hi and…nothing. Just the TV blaring. But that wasn’t all. The ceiling fan, which they never used because it kicked up too much dust for Kay’D’s allergies, was also on full bore. We thought it was going to spin itself off the ceiling it was going so fast. He called, no answer. We all kinda looked at each other, very confused. I went into the kitchen to look out the window for her car, and all the burners on the stove were red hot. All the lights in the place were on, too, and Kevin swore he had only left the bathroom light on. He got on the phone to call her at work, just to see if she might have come home (as work was only about 5 minutes away) for some reason. No reason could really explain, but he was grasping at straws. Yep…working at Lowe’s and with a customer. Hmmmm… I did some research at the library on the house…the Everett (Washington) Library Main Branch had a wonderful section to be able to do this. Through old Everett Herald newspaper articles, city and county records, et cetera, I learned that the original owners built the house. Their names where Robert and Emily Moore. He was a chemist and she was an assistant superintendant for the Everett School District. They had one son, Henry. The parents lived in the house for the rest of their lives. Robert died, at home, in 1942, and Emily died, at home, in 1949. Henry inherited the building, and revamped it in 1952. I think that Robert and Emily were still there. I am the sort of person that has to investigate stuff like this. I have to find reasons for things before I can form a final opinion. The vibrating livingroom: I crawled under the house a few times to check the foundation, flooring joists and to chase out the resident raccoons, possums and stray cats. Solid as a rock, as far as I could tell. Was it traffic on the main road 3 blocks away? Doubtful. Was it trains going into a tunnel 12 blocks away? Maybe, but doubtful. The dark shadowy figures: Could have been my imagination. Dunno. Slamming doors: The doors in that place were pretty stout and didn’t close easily, let alone slam by themselves. It was expected in the summertime when all the doors were open and a vaccuum was created; I’d prop them open. But in the dead of winter when it was hella cold, the doors were all shut tightly. Dunno. Mystery footsteps on the staircase, cold spots on the couch, and appliances and electronics that turn on by themselves: While I can see where TVs, lights and fans may react to a short in the cicuit or something (even though they were all on separate circuits) by turning on, you had to push and turn each knob for any of the burners to come on. You tell me… The place is haunted and I’m sticking to that. I’ve always wanted to write the new owners to see if they’ve experienced anything strange there. Perhaps I should do that. I can risk being labelled a kook, if they haven’t. But if they have, they might just answer me. Heh heh heh…

Well, this is genuinely sad. I haven’t been here for too long, but what I’ve read from you, I’ve liked and been entertained. The world needs more civility! I, for one, shall miss you…

Hmmm…why did this post twice? I’m sure I only hit the “submit” button once. My ‘puter sure is acting odd lately…much like its’ owner. Heehee

I kinda feel a bit sorry for McCain. *gasp* I think that he’s probably a decent guy, and I actually like him. I thought it was a real stand-up thing to do to, sticking up for Obama at a couple of GOP rallies. I guess that he sorta had to, though, to not appear racist or whatever. Some of the issues he’s for, I am at polar opposites with, but all in all, I think he’d make a halfway decent prez…if it were 4 years ago. This campaigne is definitely taking a toll on him, and it’s really starting to show, isn’t it? Sad…

I kinda feel a bit sorry for McCain. *gasp* I think that he’s probably a decent guy, and I actually like him. I thought it was a real stand-up thing to do to, sticking up for Obama at a couple of GOP rallies. I guess that he sorta had to, though, to not appear racist or whatever. Some of the issues he’s for, I am at polar opposites with, but all in all, I think he’d make a halfway decent prez…if it were 4 years ago. This campaigne is definitely taking a toll on him, and it’s really starting to show, isn’t it? Sad…

Fraaaank! So nice to see you way back here. I liked your apology. That was very good of you extend the olive branch to the above offended persons. I re-read your intial comment, and you are correct that you merely offered your opinion of the supernatural. That’s the spirit! (Pun intended…) That is what the question was all about. Unfortunately, it all deteriorated from there. Being a member of all sorts of forums on The Interweb, I’ve noticed that people get offended at the slightest thing. It’s one of my pet peeves. Not that the offense is taken, but that all manner of sniping and nastiness ensues thereafter. It’s not necessary and can get real ugly quite rapidly. All reason goes out the window and obtuse tangents are created. I have been guilty of this offense, myself. I hate it when I get into the fray, but there it is. In a certain frame of mind, my buttons can definitely get pushed. I am human. It IS possible to have a pleasant and intelligent cyber conversation, while still maintaining some modicum of respect and manners towards an opposing opinion. I just don’t see it too often. It’s easy to talk about things when everyone has the same point of view or reference. But that’s not always a really great conversation amongst the wide variety of people one encounters in The Void, is it? I don’t think so, anyway. I like hearing others’ thoughts on differing subjects. It can be very interesting, and sometimes my mind can be swayed. I try, very hard, to take other ideas into consideration when deciding how I feel about something. I’ve always prided myself on being able to see all sides to a question. I’m just hard-wired like that. There are certain topics of conversation that I have a very strong opinion of, but I won’t express it because it usually results in a stalemate. People believe what they want to believe, and it’s a pointless expenditure of energy that can be better spent on something else. That, and I really suck in debate situations. Often times, I can’t produce any concrete reasons about how and why I think a certain way. It’s just how I feel about something. Illogical? Irrational? Probably. That’s just how I work. I understand how this election is very important to this country. I understand how the recent events in the news have most people foaming at the mouth. People have become very passionate about what side they are on, and who’s right and who’s wrong. I think that most of us have lost sight about what’s really important in life and what’s going to be really good for America, because we all want to be on the winning side. Shouldn’t it really be more than just that? As ludicrous as this sounds, it all boils down to this for me: to quote Mr. Spock, “The needs of the many must outweigh the needs of the few or the one.” So simple yet so complex. I have given up watching the news, of late, because I am trying to quit smoking. It makes me crazy. It makes us ALL crazy. It all makes me wanna go out and buy a pack of smokes. I come here to relax. Unfortunately, all too often I end up saying something I will have to back up at a later point in time. Or regret saying. So, most times, I just sit back and watch. It’s quite busy in my head, you know. If I have offended you, I am truly sorry for that. It was not my intent. And if you thought I was attacking you, well…that wasn’t my intent, either. I really wasn’t calling you an asshole. I just was using a saying I’ve heard for a long time. I was trying to be humourous. It’s a funny quote. I just now have been trying to find the origin of it, and it’s been attributed to Dirty Harry, a couple of other movies and someone’s mother. LOL I have no idea where it came from. For all I know, Shakespeare first wrote it. Who knows? I just try to get people to think about what they are saying to one another. And to be nicer to one another, as well. Life’s too short to waste on ill will, nit-picking and insults. Also, if my long comment before seemed to have a lecturing tone to it, I’m sorry. It’s not that I look down upon others from some lofty perch. When I write, I make a very concentrated effort to choose my words carefully. I try to inject some humour into a situation to diffuse animosities. And I try to offer some of the wisdom I’ve learned from life…to help others become better, kinder, more mannerly people. That sort of thing is very important to me. I think we have lost that, over time. I think the world would be a far better place if we treated each other with mutual respect, especially if we are strangers. I have many faults. I am not perfect. I don’t have any delusions, whatsoever, that I am. I don’t think that I’m better than anyone else. I’m just a silly woman who has an ideal of what we could be if we could only see what we shouldn’t be. *sigh* Yes, I do have opinions…many, many of them! If you and I can get past this little fracas, you might hear some of them. You may not like them or agree with them, but we may have more in common than you think. I believe myself to be a reasonable person. I have reason to believe that you are a reasonable person, as well, judging from the apology you’ve offered above. You have laid out some real concerns that are important to you. I haven’t heard some of what you speak because I’ve taken the ostrich approach to life, lately, so I’m not qualified to offer an opinion or an answer. It’s not that I’m vaccuous, but I am uninformed. May I go out on a limb and be completely honest with you? Even though you feel that there’s some hidden agenda with the Obamas, I’m not worried about any of that. That’s your right to feel this way just as it’s my right to not care about it. I don’t think you are less of an intelligent being, believing as you do. It must worry you or you wouldn’t have put it out there. I respect that, and I’m sorry that you’re so concerned. Personally speaking, if he wins the election, I think everything is going to be okay despite your feelings. I also think that if McCain wins the election, everything is still going to be okay. Life has a way of working itself out, somehow. I’m voting for Obama. You’re voting for McCain. We are cancelling each other out, and everything is still going to be okay. There are enough things that they both agree upon that will be good for this country and the rest of the world. The big things are: to stay in Iraq or not to stay in Iraq, Sarah Palin, and Roe V Wade.. That’s basically why I’m voting for Obama. There are other differences, but that’s for another time and another election. I just want what everyone else wants: for America to pick itself up, dust itself off, and move forward. I want for the rest of the world to not think that we are a collective bunch of arrogant idiots who only care about money and material things. I want for us to have real pride for America and not some jingoistic imitaion of what it is to be patriotic. I want things to be better for us all. I want people to feel safe and secure in their daily lives. I want to be able to not have to worry about the cost of going to the doctor because I have no insurance. I want to be able to know that when I get to be my father’s age (91 a few days after the election), I’ll be able to not have to compete with my cats at their food dish because groceries are so expensive. I want to be able to breathe clean air and drink clean water and know that the planet will still be around when my children’s children are my age. *takes a looong breath when she realises that she’s getting all worked up…* So…can we be friends? I’d like that much better. Let’s start over! Hi, Frank. My name’s Renee. Pleased to meet you. Would you like to hear my take on ghosts? It may sound crazy and odd, but it’s what I’ve experienced in life’s interesting and mysterious journey. You can find it in the main post area on page 6, towards the bottom. I hope that you find it interesting and/or entertaining. Skeptic? Oh, that’s okay. I’m used to it. X-Hubby #2 thought I was crazy when our son told him that I’d seen Bigfoot one night on the way home from my father’s house near Mount St. Helens. It was late at night and I was driving on the backroads, through the forest in Mason County……

Fraaank? Settle down, now. The blood pressure is surely going up. I can almost see you flailing about, and this is only supposed to be a friendly exchange of ideas and thoughts. No need to work yourself into having a cerebral hemorrhage. I’m not your enemy. I’m just trying to follow things in here. Sometimes these threads get fouled up and comments are placed where they make no sense. I’m unsure how we went from ghosts to grammer to Obama. LOL Let’s take this item by item, shall we? Did you want to know the difference between your and you’re? Or are you just letting me know my grammer is incorrect? Make sure you also check my spelling. I know the difference betwixt “your” and “you’re” perfectly fine. I couldn’t see the relevance, is all. I still don’t, but perhaps I’m missing something. I don’t make a habit of correcting others’ grammar or spelling unless it’s asked of me. Personally, I think that sort of thing is rude and childish. And before you take umbrage at that statement, I wasn’t saying that you were rude or childish, merely the general action of doing so. There’s a difference. I’m a serious guy when I see a person like Obama that won’t level with us regarding his Islamic associates and others. He had Pakistani roomates in college. Instead of going to a spring break location, Obama went to Pakistan. Where is his senior thesis from both Clolumbia and Harvard? Princeton released Michelle Obamas thesis. Well, being serious about issues that are important to you is a good thing. Nothing wrong with that. We all have things that we’re serious about. Me? I have a serious issue with the dillwad that keeps stealing my newspapers. If I could get the opportunity to actually read the damned things I’m paying a $12.95/month subscription for, I might know to what you are referring. I’m not certain what the Obamas, college theses, and trips to Pakistan have to do with ghosts, but I’ve given up trying to find the posts that contain this content. (My head hurts and my computer is slow and ill…no patience tonight.) I took a stroll this morning. Yoga? I don’t think so. A stroll is great! It’s relaxing and gives a person a chance to clear their head and enjoy nature. And yoga isn’t for everyone. It was just a thought. So while nothing has gotten resolved, I feel better all the same. How about you? ;)

Andromeda! I think I’ve found your comment. It’s under Whoopi’s post, up at the top of the main page. That seems to be a separate thread from this one. :D

You’ve really lost me on this “your” and “you’re” business… Dude! Lighten up. You’re gonna blow a gasket. I worry for your health. Why so serious? You must be a Type-A personality. I suggest taking up yoga, or a nice stroll in the park to take care of that unbridled hostility. Breathe…..everything is going to be just fiiine….

Frank amuses me. He reminds me of X-Hubby #2. Very opinionated. Opinions are like assholes….everybody’s got one. But I digress… Why begrudge another for having a good vocabulary? That’s just silly. What’s the big deal about using $10 words? If you don’t understand it, use the dictionary. You might learn something useful. My Father gave me a huge vocabulary. He worked the graveyard shift at Boeing, and it was his way of keeping in touch with me. He is an uneducated man, but very intelligent. When I was growing up, he made me look up a word a day. I had to pick a word, learn the spelling, learn the definition, and use it correctly in a sentence. I had to write it aaaall out on paper and leave it out for him on the kitchen table. I hated doing this, at first, but it became interesting, after a bit. I can’t thank him enough, now. I passed this “gift” on to my own kids, and the results were the same. They hated it, but now they can be quite eloquent in speech and written word. I love it! Kryssi…yer doing a fine job of being an intelligent human being. Frank…yer doing a fine job of pissing people off. Tread lightly, my friend. The question of the day was simple. Do you believe in ghosts? It’s okay if you do, and it’s okay if you don’t. Not very complicated. Me? I do. I’ve seen some strange stuff in my 53 years. Some of it was even witnessed by others. Mass hallucination? Dunno. But I know what I experienced. Cannot convince me otherwise. Opinions and beliefs are a very personal thing. It doesn’t make you stupid, one way or another. It’s just your own, personal take on stuff. Attacking an individual for what they believe or don’t believe is like saying someone is a horrible person because they like pop music instead of thrash-metal. Apples and oranges. So, anyway…I’m new here. I don’t want to make enemies, but when I see someone getting bullied, I have to speak up. There’s no reason for this kind of behaviour. You can express an opposing opinion or belief without getting haughty, snotty or nasty about it. Civil communication is getting to be a dying art-form. Ever seen the movie Barry Lyndon? You should. It’s a good movie, if you can stick with it. It moves along slowly, but it’s interesting in that it shows how important civility, good manners and being polite was in days of yore. Specifically, the 18th century, when the story takes place. You could end up on the business end of a sword or in a duel, if you weren’t careful. That mode of thinking, for the most part, seems to be long gone today. And more’s the pity for it. Society, particularly in America, has a rude face. We keep to ourselves. We don’t know our neighbours. We are suspicious of everyone. We are always ready for a fight. Rubbish. We have become anonymous to each other, and that’s just plain sad. It’s just too easy to spout off online…because we can. Would we be saying bad things to one another if we were face-to-face in a room? Probably not. And why not? Because it’s not as easy. If we did behave like this, in person, it might get more ugly than you’d want it to be. It’s just fine to express an opinion, one way or another. How you do it is the key. People don’t wanna listen to you if you’re mocking or belittling them. You can’t get your views heard if you attack others. I’m sure Frank is a very nice person when he’s not trying to shore himself up by cutting others down. So…let’s all play nicely. It’s better for all of us. *steps down from her soapbox to make room for the next participant* And yes…I still believe in ghosts.

Well…yer right, AJ. I don’t see any post pertaining to this subject other than yer queries about where the post went. Bummer. It’s lost in The Void somewhere. Can you repost it? That’s probably a huge hassle. If yer like me, it was probably some long, epic post that you could never quite duplicate unless you thought to save it to notepad or something. I’d like to read what you wrote. Sometimes it’s quite a mystery as to what happens and where things go…a glitch of some sort. Sorry about that. I’m fairly certain that it wasn’t done purposely. I mean, in other forums I’ve been to, if they delete yer post fer content and/or verboten wordage, they at least send you a slap on the wrist in yer inbox. Did you get any sort of warning email? If not, I’d just chalk it up to shit happens, and repost. Like I said, I’d like to see what you wrote. Ciao!

To quote The Cowardly Lion, “I do believe in ghosts! I do, I do, I DO believe in ghosts!” Part of it I blame on me Ma…and part of it I blame on personal experiences and living in a couple of haunted houses. Seriously. No-one can ever convince me otherwise. I’m now going to make a statement that will totally offend some. Being that this is my very first-ever post here, please be open minded. I can believe in regular ghosts if others can believe in the Holy Ghost. To me, there’s not much difference. It’s still something that most people haven’t seen or felt, but you know it exists. This is just my opinion, my belief, and I don’t expect others to hold the same view as I do. I am spiritual, but not a believer in the traditional God in Heaven. But I digress… Ghosts. I grew up in a house where my mother always talked to her dead brother, Henry. He’d come visit at the foot of her bed. There were other long-dead relation of hers that’d show up, too, but he was the most frequent, as far as I know. It was…unusual, but fairly normal, to me. A vivid memory at age 5: Ma was in her bedroom. She was folding clothes on her bed and talking to thin air. I heard her voice and went to investigate. “Um…who are you talking to?” “Henry.” “Oh. Yer brother Henry?” (This was 1960, and he’d died in 1929) “Uh huh…” “What are you talking about?” “Your uncle is very angry. They won’t let him ride his horse.” “Uh…who won’t let him ride his horse?” “All those damned angels! There’s a separate place for animals, and he can’t go there.” “Soooo…what’s he going to do?” She spoke to him in this weird conglomeration of Swedish and Finnish that Ma and her sisters would speak when they wanted privacy. She was actually having a full-blown conversation with nothing I could see. This went on for several minutes. Finally…”He’s going to go talk to the man in charge. He wants to ride Pim, and he doesn’t think that’s a good rule.” Pim, I later learned, was short for Pimea; black in Swedish. I’ve seen old family photos with Henry on his beautiful black horse. Now, she was my dear ole Ma. She was a tad eccentric, highly superstitious, highly intelligent, and under-educated, but definitelynot crazy. I totally believe that her dead brother visited her many times over the years. Flash forward several years. I was a young woman…20 years old. I had been at a friend’s house where a wedding reception was held. The house was an old, three-storey behemouth of a house built sometime in the 1880s - 1890s. Very cool old place in a very cool old neighbourhood in Seattle. It was just an excuse to party, in a fancier-than-usual setting. I was absolutely blotto when I sat on the couch and totally passed out. When I woke, it was dark, except for moonlight and street lights streaming through the windows. In other words, light enough to see things in the livingroom. Someone had taken off my shoes, laid me down and threw an afghan over me for the night. My friend’s German Shepherd Dog, Rennie, was snoring on the floor betwixt the couch and coffee table. He was a retired police dog…very sweet and still quite young for his 13 years. I sat up for a moment, to get my bearings. “Bathroom…I need the bathroom, ” I thought to myself. Rennie looked up at me and wagged his tail, thumping it on the floor. I felt around on the coffee table for my glasses. It was very quiet in the house. I could hear a clock ticking somewhere. I smelled…lilacs? “It’s February. No lilacs blooming this time of year,” I whispered to the old dog. Suddenly, Rennie sat bolt upright. His head swiveled to the right on his massive body. He was facing the hall entryway. He jumped to all fours, with hackles raised, and head down, growling a low, gutteral growl. It was scary how quickly he changed from a sweet, loving dog, to this fierce and menacing canine. He was staring and growling at the hallway opening. The door was open, like it usually was. He could definitely see something that I couldn’t. I sat there for a few seconds, confused. What the hell was he freaking out over? Everyone who lived there was asleep. I was the only one who stayed over. Then…I saw…something. It looked sorta like a transparent mist, just materialising in the doorway. It was very faint, but I could see a sort of shape just hovering above the floor. It looked like a vague outline of a body, from the head to the knees. It was there for only about 10 seconds and then it started to dissipate. Poof! Gone. I’m sure that I was still a little drunk, but I know what I saw. Rennie immediately started to whine and whimper and tried to crawl into my lap. A 160 pound former police dog reduced to a scared puppy. I hugged him, and let him snuggle on the end of the couch. I decided that I really didn’t need to use the bathroom afterall. It was down at the other end of that hallway, and…well…I wasn’t exactly scared, but I was a little unnerved. I dropped back down onto the couch and fell back asleep. The next time I woke, it was to the sound of children laughing, pots and pans clanking and clattering, and the smell of bacon. Aaahh…breakfast time! I wandered into the kitchen. Dee poured me a cuppa coffee and motioned for me to sit at the table. I felt like shit, but the chatter and aromas perked me up. “Sooo…how are YOU feeling today?” Dee chuckled. “Well…my head is pounding, but I think I’ll live. You know, I think you might have rats or something going on with you radiators in the bathroom…” Kenny, Dee and the kids sorta exchanged knowing looks. “Why do you say that?” “I dunno…sometime before the sun came up I was sorta awake and Rennie was growling at the hallway and there was steam or something coming from the end of the hall. Maybe not rats, but mice coming up from the basement? It was weird and poor Rennie was freaking out. Maybe we were both still dreaming or something…” More knowing looks. One of the girls whispered something to her Dad and giggled. I was sure I was the butt of some joke I didn’t get. Dee said, very matter-of-factly, “I see you’ve met The Captain.” “Captain?? What captain? Uh…what are you talking about?” “The Captain…he built this place. He was a sea captain and he built this for his wife and kids. He died in the crow’s nest upstairs around 1930-something. He’s still hanging around. He makes his rounds at night and Rennie has never gotten used to him.” Coulda knocked me over with a feather. Totally gobsmacked. And then I got the joke…very funny…ha ha ha. But it was no joke. They were serious. It bugged me for years, so I went to the main library to research the city records. They had been telling the truth. Sea captain, out of Fisherman’s Terminal in Ballard. Freaky deaky, man. These are just two stories I could tell. I haven’t even told you about the houses we’ve lived in or the weird experiences at a couple of graveyards. From childhood to adulthood, I’ve seen stuff. I’ve felt stuff. My kids have seen stuff. My family has seen stuff. My friends have seen stuff. I think it’s just easier for some people than it is for others. They are just more senstive to things than most. I don’t know what it is exactly, but perhaps some people are just hard-wired to be ghost-friendly…an openness to consider the idea that anything is possible.