Ghost Of A Thought

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Photo: MorgueFile

Years ago I worked in an old building with creaking wooden floors, doors that wouldn’t stay open and according to the building’s legend, all of the keys to all of the doors had been buried with the building’s first owner.

That meant that the day after the funeral nobody could get into the building or any of the locked rooms.

I thought that was funny and guessed that was the idea, but for some reason people failed to see the humor in that situation.

Another thing I thought was funny was the way people would never walk into any of the rooms without turning a light on first- ALL of the lights. And that included the rooms with lots of windows where not only did the sunlight do it’s thing so did the lights from the streetlights or the buildings across the street. None of those rooms were ever truly ‘dark’.

Like I said- it was funny.

A few months ago I stopped by the old place and I was talking to some of my friends in the hallway when one of the new workers asked me if I had ever seen any ghosts in that building back in the day when I worked there and before I could open my mouth this guy who works there says, ” there aren’t any ghosts here, that’s all bull, I’ve worked here for twenty years and I’ve never seen or heard a thing.”

That doesn’t surprise me, this guy is not known for his listening skills, he’s known more for his masterful use of hot air.

So when he’s done telling us ‘how it is’ I said-

” Nah, ” I never saw anything.

Mr. Bloviator looks like he’s getting ready to pat me on the head and then I say, ” but sometimes I’d be in my office and I could smell flowers. It was so bad at times I’d open the window try to air the room out. Never worked though, when that happened all I could do was wait for the room to clear on it’s own.”

My Non-Ghost Believing Former Co-Worker squints at me and stomps off.

” Is that true?” a few of them asked me.

” No. I just like to get him mad. Some things never get old. Plus he hates flowers. “

So we started to make plans for lunch and as we pass by my old office- which is used as a storage room now- I could hear it and maybe a few of the others did too- but it there coming from the back of the room.

 Just like I knew it would be.

-It was the sound of keys being rattled together.

 

 

The Quiet Place

Photo By: A.M. Moscoso

Photo By: A.M. Moscoso

This is a little park in Pioneer Square
that tourists and locals like to visit even when the weather is bad.
But what I think is strange is how quiet it is there-
even when it’s full of people.
It’s cemetery quiet.
I wonder why. 

Me, Betsy and The Church Zombie

Clipart By: Ben Blogged

Clipart By: Ben Blogged

here it is- the story I promised to tell about
Me, Betsy and the Church Zombie
 
When I was a kid my favorite TV show was called Nightmare Theatre-
 it was at the Theatre I learned about all things Horror- and one year when I was about 7 years old, and it was just before Easter I learned all about Zombies.

 Me and my friend Betsy had our sleepover at my house because I knew where my parents had stashed the Easter Basket Candy- look, horror movies just work more if you can mix Jelly Beans in with Jiffy Pop- freshly popped on your stove- top try it sometime-.

So as usual me and Betsy are out of our minds with excitement over the movies and we kept getting sent down to the gym which also served as our school’s cafeteria for ” Quiet Time ” for talking loud in class.

The Zombie incident happened in the early 1970’s and our school was  built in 1905 so our gym was actually a basement. It looked like a gym but no matter how much light they pumped into that room it was always dark.

John B Allen- Seattle WA 1905
John B Allen- Seattle WA 1905- I was a student there- 66 years later!

Well, on one of our many trips to ” Quiet Time ” me and Betsy would sit down in that gym, in the half light and talk all about Zombies. Now, I have to explain why exactly it was me and Betsy spent a lot of time in that basement together for talking in class.

First of all, we did talk a lot about Monsters, but we had to talk loud- or mostly I had to talk loud because my friend was going deaf. In fact by the time we were nine she was completely deaf. At any rate, Betsy was just starting to adjust to her hearing loss and hadn’t caught onto things like lip reading or sign, so if you said something to her you had to make sure you said it loud so she got it the first time or you had to say it a bunch of times- which made Betsy cry because she felt ‘dumb’.

Look, Betsy was wearing leg braces and she had a wandering left eye, she didn’t need to feel ‘dumb’ on top of that:

So I talked loud.

All of the time

And we were always getting into trouble for it.

All of the time.

Oh don’t feel sorry for us  we got used to getting into trouble for not using ‘soft voices’  and sometimes, because we were on the honor system, we were supposed to take ourselves to the basement and check in. Most of the time we just went out to the playground for 20 minutes and then took ourselves back to class.

Well, Nightmare Theatre did some sort of Zombie Fest and by Easter Sunday Betsy and I were all about Zombies- where did they come from? Did they have stinky breath? How come when they ran their heads didn’t fall off?

We even went up to my unfinished attic and drew them all over the exposed ceiling joists.

And then we had to go to Church – for Easter Mass.

It’s not like this ends bad for me and Betsy.

We were sitting there listening to a story about dead people coming back to life and a story about an empty tomb and crying women-

So I look over at Betsy and she’s already shaking her head.

 I am already nodding.

And she looks confused- I knew that look, she was trying to figure out if I had said something so to get my point across I made what we called ” Zombie Arms ” ( you know how Zombies walked with their arms straight out? Those were Zombie Arms.)

Betsy, to clarify things made Zombie arms and went a little slack jawed.

I nodd.

She shakes her head in disbelief.

” Yeah- huh ” I stage whisper.

” Jesus was a Zombie?” she asks- you know loud.

And to make sure my friend can hear me I say, ” yeah and he’s coming back- today

You know, I’m not sure if it was really that quiet in that huge Church on the day Betsy and I dropped to the floor and crawled up the side aisle to escape the Zombies, but that’s the way I remember it.

And to this day I have this theory.

I think that me and Betsy could go through our entire lives committing one sin after another because I’ll bet to this very day everyone in the Church that day are still praying for our Souls.

I know I do.

And here ends the promised story about

 Me, Betsy and The Church Zombie

photo by: Anodyne

photo by: Anodyne

Let’s Do IT!

 

Photo: Vintage Resources
Photo: Vintage Resources

 

It may not look like Spring

It may not be acting like Spring

Still.

It IS Spring…

(audio only)

Hiding From Baby Jesus

For Easter my husband bought me a brand new laptop to make it easier for me to write while mobile- which is a huge help because I’m sort of behind schedule on some of my projects.

So.

How do I thank my husband who also paid extra so that the IT guys would set it up and all I had to do was hit the on switch and get to work?

I thanked him by downloading  David Tennant wallpaper on my brand new laptop-

By that I do mean the nifty Easter present that my generous husband bought for me because he’s trying to find ways to be supportive of someone who spends most of her time writing and paying more attention to an imaginary world then to the real one ( of which he is a member. )

teacher

One of my friends told me, after I mentioned this, that though she appreciated the humor and that she really liked the picture… that didn’t sound like a very nice thing to do to Luis- being that I also forgot it was Easter and didn’t even bother to dye a single egg or buy him a card.

But then came the words that will follow me into the next world:

” You know Anita, it’s probably NOT a good idea to make Baby Jesus cry on a religious holiday.”

I didn’t tell her I almost put up the picture of Tennant in a policeman’s hat and nothing else.

Talk about close call.

I’d be hiding from Baby Jesus for the rest of my life.

 

Swim Suited For Hell

tide

I never used to stress over the Swim Suit issue.

It’s not like I look good in them, but ages ago I used to like to go to the beach so I wore one – I mean, it’s not like anyone looked at me so who cares- right? I wanted to get some sun, I wanted to get into the water so I wore a bikini.

And then a few years ago my  friend suggested we go and get fitted for swim suits- you know by a professional.She does this every year – not because she doesn’t know how to dress spiffy- it’s because she looks great and has a hard time making up her mind

However, I knew I was in trouble when the ” Professional ” turned out to be girl who made Kate Moss look obese.

So the Professional pulls all these one piece things off of the rack and tells me these will be work with my flaws. She’s pointing out my ‘problem areas’.

Apparently I had a lot of them.

The suits were all one piece things, they were all black and they all had these pastel flower prints on them.

A few even had these skirts- Jesus Wept, skirts?

“If my Grandmothers saw me in any of these they’d ask me why I was dressing like an old lady. Okay, look whatever, do you have anything with some color? I mean…these are all black.”

” Colors are not going to work with your body type, black is slimming and more complimentary to a figure like yours.

And then after handing me the old lady suits she turns to my friend and starts talking about the lovely selection of new suits that just came in that would look just  ‘ beautiful’ on her.

Just as the Professional  made for the center racks- you know where all the pretty suits are and before my friend, who is not one of those Customers you want to mess with,opened her mouth took the Salesperson’s head off-  I dropped the suits at the the ” Professional Fitter’s”  feet and said, ” to bad they don’t make things like that to demphasize a lousy personality.”

So what brought this on today?

I found out the store that told me to spare my fellow Beach Visitors the pain of having to see me in a swim suit by wearing something that maybe, if she were to go blind and didn’t know what she was putting on my Grandma wouldn’t have touched with a ten foot pole….

went out of business.

All I can say is

YAYAYAYAYAAYYAAAAAYYYYY!

Time- It Will Be Relative Baby

Yesterday my husband shows me this flyer that his friend sent him.

Oh wow, says he-

40 years ago to the day- April 6th- the band he was in played this gig.

Oh wow says I-

40 years ago on that same exact day…

 I was four years old 

 No.

I don’t know why he puts up with me either.

Seriously.

I don’t.

flyer1

Dutch Uncle

Dutch Uncle

 

 

 

 

 

 

Secret Ruins

 

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Back when it didn’t matter

I used to travel alone.

And by alone I mean I would go alone  into places like abandoned buildings and deserted towns and falling down houses and if something had happened to me it would have been bye bye Anita because not only did I never bother to tell anyone when I was leaving I certainly didn’t say where it was I was going to.

I still haven’t told anybody where it was exactly I would disappear to, or how I chose those places to visit. I never have sat around told told stories about what I  saw when I got there or how many times I almost fell through floors, or how many times doors slammed behind me and got stuck shut.

I’ve never told anybody how many times I ran out of gas and walked for miles and miles and when cars would slow down and ask me if I needed help I would look the other way and keep walking.

I never told anyone what I saw in those windows at the Green House in that town where the cemetery was behind a school.

It’s been a secret of mine for a very long time.

And I do believe I’ll keep it that way.

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