Ghostly Encounters

Sometimes things go bump in the night at our house.  Papers fall off the table of their own accord.  Odd noises come from the opposite side of the house on a regular basis.  Cell phones and books seem to have moved from where they were set down.  All little things easily explained as normal occurrences in a busy household............. until the little occurrences start adding up.  Then, an occurrence (or two.... or three) happens which is not so easily explained.  It's those few inexplicable occurrences which have convinced my children that our house is haunted. 



Ghostly encounters Public Domain


No matter how much I try to convince them there's nothing in this home's history (no suicides, murders, unexplained deaths, etc.) which would invite the spirit world through the doors......... or walls...... they don't believe me.  They are convinced some kind of ghost has made its way in.  

They say they've seen a ghost-like apparition in the middle of the night.  Our house sits on a corner at a bend in the road, so when cars come down the street, their headlights do cast ghostly beams through the tightly drawn blinds.

They say they hear crashing noises but when they investigate, nothing is found.  Yeah well, we have lots of squirrels who like to jump from the trees onto the roof, and from the roof onto the trees.  Hence, lots of crashing sounds.

They say things move of their own accord.  No, mom and dad get sick of tripping over their shoes in the middle of the floor and move them out of the way.

They say they have heard "people" sounds but no one is in the area where the sound came from.  Ok, this one got to me because I have noticed this but disregarded it............ until a couple of nights ago.

It was about 2am and I was sound asleep on the sofa (yes, I had tried to stay up to watch the end of a show and probably made it 10 minutes and missed the ending - darn it!).  I awoke with a start to what sounded like someone stepping on one of the dog's squeaky toys.  And boy, oh boy was it loud.

I sat up instantly and waited for one of my kids to walk in the room.  I waited and waited but no one came in.  I got up and walked into my kids room to see if they'd been sleep walking.  They were sound asleep and, from the way they were wrapped burrito style in their blankets, they hadn't gotten up since going to bed hours before.  I peeked in my bedroom.  My husband was sound asleep......... and snoring like a freight train.

I decided it was either my imagination or a dream and went back to the sofa, because there was no way I was going to be able to sleep with the snorus-chorus my husband was serenading the house with.  I arranged the throw pillows so they'd be comfy, grabbed a blanket, and headed off to dreamland.  Just as I was dozing off, the sound of a dog toy squeaked quite loudly again.

I flew off the sofa and with my heart racing and with the fireplace's andiron poker held like a baseball bat, I quickly walked through the house.  I found nothing out of sorts.  And, all of the dog toys were in their place........ in a different room from where the sound emanated.  That could only mean one thing......... gasp!  A possible rodent invasion.

I looked for evidence of a mouse or some other squeaky creature.  The problem with that thought was:  A)  I might find a mouse........... and then what was I going do?!; and B) The sound I heard was more akin to a wonky sounding dog toy which had the squeaker punctured than it was a rodent. 

Again, I found nothing...... thankfully.  I wasn't sure which thought was worse:  having a ghost or a mouse in the house.  I tried to fall back to sleep, but there was no way my racing heart or wayward thoughts could settle down enough to allow me to rest.  I finally turned on the tv and watched mindless tv programming until it was time to get everyone up and off to school and work.

Later that day, while my kids were in school and my husband was at work, I heard a very loud crash.  The sound came from my closet and it sounded like my closet rod had given way, sending everything to the floor.  Not that this event would be a surprise since that rod has been bowed since I hung one hanger from it.

With a lot of grumbling and a big sigh at the work I knew would be before me, I walked to my closet.  I dreaded opening the closet doors, but when I walked in there was nothing wrong.  The closet rod was still there bowed just as much as before.  All of the shelves were in place and nothing was on the floor that shouldn't have been.

Quite surprised, I quickly looked around my bedroom and bathroom.  Nothing.  I looked in the garage.  Nothing.  I sprinted to check both of my kids' rooms and closets.  Nothing again!  What the heck?!  I flew to the window to see if maybe the sound came from a delivery truck or a neighbor.  Yet more of nothing!  EEK!  I decided to tell myself the same thing I tell my kids "It was just a squirrel.  It was just a squirrel.  It was just a squirrel.  It was......."

Ok, so from the tremendous sound of that crash it must've been a 300 pound squirrel, but it could happen.  Right?!  If there's a Loch Ness monster and 8 foot tall Sasquatch in the forests, there could be a squirrel big enough to make that kind of noise.  I am, after all, in Texas and everything is bigger in Texas.........

After consuming a good amount of chocolate, I have decided not to get too worked up over the whole thing though.  If it was a ghost that knocked something down in my closet, or made a dog toy squeak, then I haven't been able to find evidence of its presence.  Not that that's all bad because hey, at least they picked up after themselves........

Written by Christie Bielss

What A Gas

Our much anticipated summer vacation had finally arrived.  The kids woke up on the first gentle nudge and excitedly sped through their morning routines in an effort to get out the door early.  As I was trying to put the last toiletry items in mine and my children's luggage, my husband was cutting his hair .......... while his suitcase sat on the bed just as empty as it had been the night before.  Typical.  He always packs at the last minute and always ends up forgetting something.  Heck, one year he forgot to pack any pants.  Yep, takes the phrase "going Commando" to a whole new level.

We ended up leaving an hour and half later than I had planned, but it was vacation and we were driving, so our schedule was flexible.  As we were leaving town, we went through the McDonald's drive-thru for breakfast.  My husband ordered his favorite:  sausage biscuits, while the rest of us ate syrup-less hotcakes.  That's right.  We had pancakes without syrup because I don't want sticky gunk all over my car.

My family happily gnoshed on their breakfast while I put the pedal to the metal and tried to make up for lost time due to my husband's primping.  We were about an hour down the road when our senses were assaulted by the smell of a skunk.  We didn't see it, but we sure could smell it.  We rolled the windows down and quickly aired out the car.  I felt sorry for whoever hit that skunk because their car probably had to be fumigated to get rid of that stench.

We continued blazing a trail down the highway barreling towards Amarillo, TX for our lunch break/refueling destination.  When we arrived in Amarillo, we stopped at a truck stop that also had several fast food restaurant choices inside.  The family chose Burger King and while I'd have rather eaten the tail end out of that skunk we'd smelled than something from Burger King, I sucked it up and ordered something that resembled chicken.  My family chose to go with cheeseburgers, fries, and a free ice cream cone.

Little did I know when they chose their lunch at that truck stop, we would be fueling more than the car's gas tank.  We hit the road and cheered when we crossed the Texas/New Mexico state line.  It wasn't long after that border crossing when we started encountering some strange aromas.  There was the older pickup truck in front of us that was emitting an odd smell, an open field where, from the rotten egg smell, someone must've hit a natural gas line while drilling.  We were also certain we drove past either a cattle auction yard or dairy farm due to the overwhelming smell of fresh manure.

This trip was definitely having a very negative effect on my olfactory senses.  We stopped at a rest stop in New Mexico to check out an extinct volcano and stretch our legs for a few minutes before braving the mountain passes through Raton, NM and Trinidad, CO.  I used the break to breathe in some fresh mountain air and settle my senses down a bit.

As we headed down the highway I was again assaulted by odors, but this time it became quite apparent what the source was............ and he was sitting right beside me.  I asked him ever so sweetly and discreetly "Ummm honey?  Did you do that?".  He busted out laughing so hard he was crying and managed to squeak out the words:  skunk, truck smell, cow manure, and natural gas. 

Apparently I hadn't smelled any of those things, I had been smelling his emissions.  As he was cackling like a hyena and I was grumbling about how courtesy dictates at least rolling down a window, we were both hit with the motherload of stench.

"Oh good heavens!" I yelled.  I looked over at my husband ready to tie him to the roof of the car when I noticed that he was clawing at the window trying to get it to roll down faster so he could stick his head out and get a breath of fresh air.  As I put my hand over my nose and mouth in an effort to breathe in air less odiferous, I hear a very quiet and polite "pardon me" and then another voice said "excuse me".  Great.  Now 3 people were battling each other with chemical warfare and I was stuck in the car with them.

Yep.  My great idea of hitting some fast food joints so we could make better time on the road had just backfired........... literally.  I was trapped in the car for another 4 hours with 3 people who were emitting toxic fumes.  Between my eyes watering and nose burning, I was pretty sure I'd been hit with the equivalent of a nuclear bomb or sarin nerve gas. 

By the time we made it to our hotel in Colorado Springs to spend the night, their three tummies had finally calmed down.  Burger King and McDonald's sausage biscuits were permanently banned from their diets for the remainder of the trip.  There was one upside to the whole situation.  Apparently when you have a green haze surrounding your vehicle, it does seem to deter tailgaters or anyone from trying to pass your vehicle on the road.

by: Christie Bielss

Parking Lot Escapades

Because of my Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease (CMT) and how quickly I can tire, I park in the disabled parking.  CMT is generally not one of those diseases that is readily noticable and, as a result, I have had some interesting encounters in parking lots.  There's always someone who feels entitled to a detailed accounting of my entire medical record.  They are what I affectionately call the parking lot nazis.

I've been yelled at by a shopping cart attendant at Target who thought that only people with missing legs qualified to park in disabled parking.  People who have walked past the car and told me I'm not allowed to park there because I don't have a disabled placard hanging from my rearview mirror....... uh, I have a disabled license plate.  And even some who've had the gall to say "you don't look disabled".  While I find some of these remarks rude, I do appreciate that these people are actually being protective of the disabled parking against those who are able-bodied but too lazy to park in regular parking spaces.

But then there are those few gifted souls who bring out that little redheaded devil in me that I sometimes have a hard time keeping under control.  One such instance happened just after we'd moved back to Texas.  I had just walked up to my car in the Walmart parking lot with an entire grocery cart full of groceries when I encountered one such parking lot nazi.  

I noticed him as he was exiting his car because of the sheer number of religious bumper stickers plastered all over the trunk and rear bumper of his car.  There wasn't a speck of paint or chrome visible.  Bumper sticker on top of bumper sticker and turned every which way.  The driver of that car walked straight over to me as I was trying to lift a case pack of water into the back of my car.  I thought maybe he was coming to help.  Apparently my thought pattern and his were off just a touch as he launched into a rant wanting to know why I was parked in disabled parking.  He used the reasoning that since he was going to make a purchase at Walmart, he will be paying for that space and thus, as the "owner", was entitled to my entire medical history.  Well, as you can probably guess, that didn't sit well with a fiery tempered redhead.  With a deep breath to calm my temper, I used his logic and asked him to please provide his medical information first since my purchase was, in fact, already complete.  In an ironic twist of fate, he didn't care to divulge when his last prostate exam was and what his PSA numbers were.  I also don't think he appreciated my redheaded humor when I asked if he'd had a colonoscopy and if they had been successful in locating his head.

Right then, out of nowhere, a woman of considerable height and muscular build appeared and with her index finger in his chest, gave him quite the tongue lashing.  Like a scalded dog, he jumped back in his car, backed out of his parking space, rolled down his windows and told us we were number 1.  Being the typical redhead who always has to have the last word - and seeing the 500 Jesus bumper stickers plastered to his bumper - I yelled "Jesus saw that!".  With a squeal of his tires, he was gone.  The woman chuckled and said "I think he was in a hurry to get to church and repent.".

One of the funniest experiences though was my encounter with a woman in her mid to late 80's at the Meijer grocery store in Champaign, IL.  She carried one of those great big black patent leather purses which was large enough to hold the entire contents of a kitchen pantry, as well as a shotgun.  I had just walked out of the grocery store with my groceries and was unlocking my tailgate when the elderly woman walked up to me and stopped.  She asked "What right do you have to park here?!".  I flipped around and was about to give a hot retort when I realized that she had that lethal weapon of a purse poised to bash me upside the head if she didn't like my answer!  I immediately threw my hands up in the air and said "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!  Take it easy there!".  She apparently did not appreciate that response and cocked her arm back a little further and reset her aim to align perfectly with my skull.  "Why-are-you-parked-here?!" she asked quite angrily.  Being that she reminded me so much of my feisty late Grandmother and my choices were either to answer honestly or wake up in the E.R., I chose to give this total stranger my medical diagnosis.

She instantly lowered her purse and apologized profusely.  And then if nearly being clobbered with a 50 pound purse wasn't bad enough, she literally elbowed me in the ribs to move me out of the way and started loading all of my groceries into my van.  When I told her I was quite capable of handling my own groceries, she gave me the grandma "don't  back talk me" look.  I threw my hands up in the air and rubbing my bruised ribs, backed off.  I knew better than to mess with this granny!  When she was almost done, a friend of hers walked up and grabbed her by the arm "Are you harassing another young person about parking here?!  Don't you see there are 15 other spaces available?  And look at yourself!  Acting like some kind of parking police!  You should be ashamed of yourself!  And you have obviously embarrassed yourself enough AGAIN that you are putting all this woman's groceries in her car as some form of penance when you should be going to confession!".  The friend while keeping hold of the woman's elbow, smiled at me and apologized for her friend's behavior, and marched her into the store griping at her every step of the way about how it might be time to take her car keys away and call her children.

These 2 ladies could've been straight off a skit from Saturday Night Live.  Instead of "The Church Ladies", they could be "The Purse Ladies".  I laughed the whole way home from that escapade not only because of the way these 2 friends interacted with each other, but because I can see me and my best friend doing this in 30 years or so.

And I bet you thought the only excitement to be had in a parking lot was purse snatchers, door dings, and the occasional rear-end collision........

by: Christie Bielss

Looking for the Helpers

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”  To this day, especially in times of “disaster,” I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world." A quote by Fred Rogers, aka Mister Rogers.

When I was growing up, my parents always told us something similar: "There is good in every situation.  Sometimes you have to dig a bit deeper and look a bit harder for it, but there will be good."

The events of this week have been mind-boggling.  Every day has had an event occur which is so horrific, it has knocked me off-kilter and made me question where mankind is headed.  And then I see or hear about "the helpers" and my faith is restored.  I think we all could use some "helper" stories.

Monday I sat and watched the Boston Marathon bombing as it unfolded on the news.  The chaos and horror before my eyes was surreal.  I watched as the news camera was showing people running away from the bombed areas to safety and saw the look of panic and fear on their faces...... and I felt helpless.  I live across the country from Boston, so there was nothing I could do to help at that moment.  

Within seconds of seeing people fleeing the area, I then saw people running toward the injured.  They were like fish trying to swim upstream as they negotiated their way through the crowds of people running away.  But, by the looks on their faces, they were determined to help those who needed it so desperately.  A lump developed in my throat and my heart jumped as I shouted "THERE THEY ARE!  There are "The Helpers"!  These "helpers" started grabbing the temporary fencing that had been used to block off the sidewalk from the runners and were flinging it aside to get to the injured people trapped underneath it.  Men were taking off their shirts to use as gauze and whipping off their belts to use as tourniquets.  Others were quickly carrying, or racing wheelchairs loaded with injured people to ambulances and a triage area.  With little thought to their own safety, these people went back time after time to the affected area.

And just when you think the horror is over, a fertilizer plant in West, Texas explodes with enough force to register as a 2.1 magnitude earthquake and level part of a community.  Scores were injured and an unknown number were killed.  As my mind tried to wrap itself around this latest event, my heart leapt when I saw scores of communities from all over the state immediately send fire, police, EMT's, Careflight helicopters, and many others to assist this community.  There are "the helpers"!  A call went out that everyday items were needed to assist these families who had lost everything.  Within a few short hours, West was inundated with every item they'd requested from people around the state who had dropped everything they were doing, hopped in their vehicles, and immediately delivered it to this devastated community.  These are "the helpers".

As I sat down last night to watch the evening news, they showed a clip of the Boston Bruin's game as they were performing their opening ceremony for the first time since the bombing.  The National Anthem was being performed and all of the fans, players, and coaches were singing their hearts out.  It was one of the most powerful and patriotic versions I have ever heard.  If you haven't heard it, or you've only heard a small clip, then here is a link to the posting on youtube:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZzMsagY7oRs.  They too are "the helpers".

If you know of more "Helper" stories, share them.  Help others find the good.  We all need help sometimes finding "the good" and "the helpers".  By sharing more of the good, you then become one of "the helpers", and we can all use some good.

by: Christie Bielss