Send in the Clowns

My daughter, like so many girly-girls, loves to do crafts. She loves it so much that in the name of taming some of the chaos, I finally broke down and devoted an entire shelf in a closet to all of her crafting supplies.  One day while I was painting our guest bedroom ceiling, she asked if she could do some crafting. Thrilled at the thought of her staying occupied and out of the paint, I gave her the go-ahead. She was so excited and quickly decided to make a new magnet for the refrigerator.



Public Domain Image "Clown Face" by wpclipart.com

She worked hard on that magnet for a solid hour.  With different colored felt squares and other leftover pieces from other craft projects, she made a clown face.  With great fanfare she announced her completion of the project and quickly hung it on the refrigerator for all to see.

I tried to show excitement over her cleverly crafted artwork.  I did my best to swallow the lump in my throat and the goosebumps that were quickly raising up on my skin.  She had worked so hard and so diligently, but my enthusiasm was a bit lacking.

I'll admit it:  clowns creep me out.  It's like they're hiding some kind of evil behind all of that weird face paint and the goofy looking rainbow colored wigs.

I stood in the kitchen with a smile plastered on my face as I told my daughter what a great job she had done.  I searched for the positives of having Bozo the Clown on the refrigerator.  The only thing I could come up with was that it would definitely deter between meal snacking.

Many hours later after my daughter had unveiled her piece of art, I noticed Creepy the Clown was sitting a bit wonky.  It's bad enough to see a clown on the refrigerator, but it takes on a new level of eerie when it's looking at you with its head cocked to one side.  I went to straighten The Joker but it didn't budge.

Figuring the magnet was a bit stronger than I'd anticipated, I got a better grip and tugged harder. It still didn't move.  I tried to push up on the side that was sagging.  No luck.  I tried pushing down and even side-to-side.  That blasted clown wasn't budging.

Bozo the Clown sat there with its pom-pom eyes and creepy, crooked smile, taunting me to try and straighten him out. Childhood nightmares started flooding back and haunting me with each futile attempt to move this ghoulish creation.  My imagination ran wild as I envisioned a clown army arriving in one tiny Volkswagen ready to launch an invasion on my home.

With the hair standing up on the back of my neck like a scared cat, I yelled for my daughter.  She quickly arrived in the kitchen and I pointed to her clown that had gone askew.  She laughed and reached up to move it.  Creepy the Clown did not even move a fraction of an inch. 

"Ok, that's weird", she said.  She grabbed hold of the clown by the sides of its face and pulled with all of her might.  All of a sudden, the clown's head separated from the magnet causing my daughter to fall back a couple of steps. 

'Dear heavens, she's decapitated the thing!', I thought.  I just knew the clown minions were going to be knocking down our door any minute.

But wait!  She had decapitated it.  Technically, the evil clown was dead.  He couldn't get on his funny phone and call in the Volkswagen cavalry now.  The only thing he was good for now was the trash can.

I started to breathe again when I realized that much like when Dorothy threw the bucket of water on the Wicked Witch of the West in "The Wizard of Oz", this clown's reign of terror was over.

What remained of the artwork on the refrigerator explained why the clown hadn't moved when we'd tried to reposition him.  It totally explained its creepy, sinister look of glee.

Apparently my husband had accidentally put a bottle of Super Glue in my daughter's crafting supplies instead of in his supplies.  When she created The Joker and carefully placed him on the refrigerator, he thought he would have the last laugh by permanently adhering himself to a surface where he could cast evil grins for the next 15+ years. 

We had foiled the crazy clown's plot.  His caper was discovered and he was where he belonged - in the trash.  But, there was still a lot of Super Glue stuck to my refrigerator, which meant I would always remember what had once been there.

I knew I had to eliminate all traces of him so I could open the refrigerator door without trepidation.  With just a few simple keystrokes and the power of Google, I had the answer to removing him from my life permanently.

I quickly got to work.  A few dabs of acetone-based nail polish remover and his creepy smile was turned upside down as the Super Glue was quickly removed, along with any trace of his presence.  Creepy the Clown was off to the local landfill and my refrigerator was now shiny and clean.  His reign of terror was now conquered, the clown army was defeated before it ever had a chance to organize, and their clown Volkswagen was just another heap of metal in the local junkyard.

In the battle of Redheads vs. Clowns:  This time the Redhead -1; and Creepy Clown - 0.


Written by Christie Bielss

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

Computer Craziness

Have you ever had one of those moments where something in your life all of the sudden reminds you of a creepy horror movie?  I just had one of those moments, and let me say - it was creepy.

I was on the phone taking a business call (I'm a WAHM) when all of the sudden I started hearing music.  Somewhat startled, it took a moment before I realized the music was coming from the direction of my computer.  I had just reached for a pen to jot down some notes and figured I had inadvertently tapped something on the computer causing the music to start playing.  I hit the "mute" key on the computer thinking that would solve the problem until I got off the phone and could figure it out.

Much to my surprise, even after I had pressed the mute key, the music continued.  Obviously this sound was not coming from the computer like I thought.  I then remembered that my son's alarm clock, which has a second alarm setting, sometimes goes off due to my son accidentally hitting a wrong button.  I walked into his room (while I put my call on hold) but there was no music. 

Perplexed, I walked out the front door of our home thinking (and hoping) a neighbor's music was cranked up.  I stepped outside and listened...... no music there.  I walked to my family room to see if I'd left the tv on.  It was also off.  Several horror movie scenes were starting to play out in my mind, causing a rather unsettling feeling to grow inside of me.

I walked back to my computer and heard the faintest sound of music again.  I turned off the speakers to my computer...... and still the music kept playing.  Ok, now this was not funny and was getting downright spooky!

My overactive imagination kicked into gear and I immediately remembered the scene from the movie "Poltergeist" where the little girl sees the tv doing its own thing and says "They're here".  Oh, like heck this is happening in my house!  I have crosses and crucifixes in my house and I will use them if I have to, I thought.

I kept trying to push those unsettling thoughts back down, to no avail.  I knew my computer had been acting weird for months on end, but my redheaded common sense kept telling me it did not just become possessed.  Determined to figure out what was causing this, I pulled out my computer's tower and unplugged the speakers completely from the computer........... and the music played on.

Oh Jesus, Mary, and Joseph - I need you NOW!  At this point I realized I could be wrong and I could have something here which would necessitate calling in a minister to perform some kind of exorcism on my electronic device.  In a last ditch effort to find the source of the music, I started picking through all of the paperwork laying around my desk (a monumental task, to be sure) in hopes of finding a portable radio or something which could be causing this.

I discovered my son's "lost" Nook which has been missing for at least a month.  But the music wasn't coming from the Nook because it's just the low-end version and doesn't have sound. 

I dug through several other piles and found nothing.  Just as I was getting ready to load my car up with our valuables and run for safety, I put my ear down and tried to use that little bit of Native American that is in my ancestral lineage to see if I could track down the location of the sound.  Channeling my inner Pocahontas, I listened with great intensity.

I first listened close to my monitor and speakers, but the music grew fainter.  Like the best Native American tracker, I moved my head around in an effort to pinpoint the area where the music was the loudest.  With great precision, I discovered the sound was coming from my keyboard. 

Now how is that even possible???  There are not any speakers on my keyboard.  I lifted the keyboard up and lo and behold, I found the source: my daughter's iPod.

How exactly my daughter's iPod managed to get put under the computer keyboard should prove to be an interesting conversation after she gets home from school.  For now, I'm just glad my computer has not been possessed by some poltergeist that likes torturing adults by playing #Carly Rae Jepsen, #Victoria Justice, and #One Direction all day long, over and over again.

by: Christie Bielss

The Sink Stinks

We bought an older home (built in 1978) back in the mid 1990's which had a few cosmetic issues.  We thought those cosmetic issues were just your typical P/W/C (paint/wallpaper/carpet).  We were in for a bit of a rude awakening.

The first morning we lived in the house, both my husband (Mike) and I had to get up and go to work before dawn.  I was the first one dressed (who says men are the faster dressers?!) and headed into the kitchen.  I flipped on the light and to my great horror, the floor was a solid mass of the most dreaded of all kitchen bugs:  the cockroach.

Being a red-blooded American female, I did what all females do when they encounter such a sight:  I let out a blood-curdling scream and ran for my life!  My husband came at a full run thinking I'd been attacked by the boogie-man.  I jumped in his big protecting arms and was able to squeak out the horror I'd just witnessed: "BUGS!!!!!  They're everywhere!!!".  That big oaf actually started laughing. 

As my nerves calmed down I said "Oh, you think that's funny?  They covered the entire surface of the kitchen floor like a cockroach carpet!".  With a sarcastic "Yeah, ok Mrs. Drama. How many were there?  1 or 2?", and walked into the kitchen.  By the time he reached the doorway, the floor was completely bug free.  They'd all crawled back into the icky gicky void they must've come out from.  I walked to the doorway and could feel them staring at me.  I knew they were there, lurking in their dark, dank hideaway planning their next invasion.

Later that same day we were having a new dishwasher installed.  The installer noted that the cabinet bottom under the kitchen sink was very damp and rotted from where the old dishwasher had leaked for a very long time.  He advised us to replace the sink bottom ASAP.  A little later that day we also had an urgent, same day pest control treatment (I do NOT do bugs).  Since we were pulling out that cabinet bottom, the technician left us some chemicals to treat that area directly.

The next morning I took an extraordinarily long time getting ready so that my husband was first to turn on the kitchen light. He's a 6'1" broad-shouldered, barrel-chested ex-football player.  He's not afraid of any stinkin' bugs.  As he walked into the family room, I peeked around the corner to see his reaction.  He flicked on the kitchen light and jumped back several feet. The bugs were out in full force.  "You're not laughing....." I said as I peeked from behind the safety of my corner.  He watched as the bugs scattered and ran for cover.  He decided right then and there that his first order of business as soon as he got home from work was to rip out that rotten cabinet bottom. 

True to his word, he walked in the door from work and immediately jumped into action.  He laid all of his tools  within arm's reach of the sink area and even had the pest control chemicals primed and ready - just in case there were any bugs that tried to protest this repair.  He gave me the heads up that he was ready and that I might should find a safe spot to perch myself. 

Having a sense of what was going to come out of that cabinet when he started banging around, I grabbed our dog and headed out to the backyard.  I figured with his manly attitude of  "I'm not afraid of any bugs", this had the potential to become quite entertaining.  I positioned myself outside our kitchen's big bay window, which allowed me the perfect sight line to where he was going to be working, and waited for the show to begin. 

My husband started hammering, and the cabinet bottom started disintegrating on the second downward stroke.  He reached into the cabinet and pulled out the first large piece of rotten cabinet bottom.  He held it up for me to see while mouthing "Ewwww!  NASTY!". 

He sat back down in front of the cabinet and with great force, he hit the cabinet bottom again.  And then it happened.  Time literally stood still.  In what seemed like a scene from a horror movie, my husband started to pull that piece of cabinet bottom out only to discover it was the bugs' home..... and they did not like invaders! 

The bugs immediately went on the offensive and launched an all out invasion.  Before he could even take a breath, bugs were everywhere.  Freeze-frame here:  you know in the first "Home Alone" movie where the little boy grabs the tarantula and plops it on the burglar's face and the burglar emits the loudest, most high-pitched scream imaginable?  Hold onto that thought and let's resume.  All of the sudden, those cockroaches were going after him.   

He started frantically slapping and swiping at his legs and feet.  He wasn't making much headway against this coordinated offensive, so he grabbed the hammer and started smashing everything that moved with it.  As he was flailing around his legs and feet, he didn't notice the bugs had started crawling up his arms towards his face!  All of the sudden, he noticed a movement on his arm and discovered the nasty spawns of satan were nearly to his shoulder.  Before I had time to even blink, he emitted the "Home Alone" blood-curdling, completely horrified scream. 

He started hopping around in a complete frenzy trying to free himself from the bugs.  Standing in the backyard, I couldn't contain myself any longer and started laughing hysterically.  The more he jumped around, swatted and screamed, the harder I laughed.  I was laughing so hard I couldn't catch a breath, my legs literally gave way and I fell to the ground.  I couldn't take my eyes off the scene before me and through tears of laughter, I watched as he finally noticed the pest control chemicals.  He grabbed the chemical sprayer and started spraying wildly while screaming "DIE!!!!  DIE!!!!!!!".  Those giant bugs didn't have a chance against that chemical and died on contact. 

After several minutes passed, he regained control of the situation and looked out the bay window for the first time since having to fight against this invasion of thousands of miscreants.  He started to smile at me and give me the thumbs up when he noticed me laying in the grass laughing hysterically.  His smile froze and slowly faded into a pointed frown.  For some reason, he did not see the humor in the situation one tiny bit.  I guess I was lucky that his "thumbs up" didn't flip around and become a "you're #1"........

by: Christie Bielss