To Do
Several years ago, I put together a sort of artist person manifesto and list…. It laid down who I was, who I wanted to be, and the changes I would put into place… and it included a list of things I wanted to do in life. This is where Randie is… I think she needs to be a little bit more specific though.
Aaahh… but now comes the hard part, Randie. It’s easy (and fun) to make a list of where you want to end up. The hard part is making a list of what you need to do to get there… and stick to it!
Pete… ’tis true. THAT’s the part she will have trouble with… the getting there part. She works slow like me… so it might be a slow road to success…. and most likely, very bumpy…. with snakes and probably a spider or two (eeeek!)
brig… lest you not forget, the mice, or are they ratz. (seen Garfield today?)
Randie does have a running preoccupation with France. It helps her with her paintings and murals, but maybe only because she hasn’t gone there. She seems to have a short attention span, dontchaknow? She was all gah-gah about Hawaii around the time of the tiki tavern build out, but once her mural gig was done, so were her island dreams. Mako Koa was a major influence but now is just a distant memory. I’m actually kinda surprised that she’s still longing for Paris after having finished off her mural job at the croisant cafe.
drip… Oh my gosh, is Randie actually being practical about an apartment swap?
Uh, croissant is apparently spelled with two “s”s. Hmm. Well, English folks write it pretty funny as crescent with that “sc” combo, so I won’t talk.
stick… I don’t think mice scare Randie… dead ones repulse her though.
Randie does flit from one thing to the next. I’m a bit like that, too. You get all into something… then you find something else to obsess over… repeat this. And we didn’t actually see Randie finish that Parisian mural.
And Randie is well aware that she lives in a dumpy place… getting the muster up to do something about it… might just be something she’s workin’ on.
It’s funny, with all of the ghost talk over the last few pages it brought to mind some of my own experiences over my 43 years of life. I have lived in haunted houses several times throughout the years. One house that I lived in as a child scared the dickens out of me and a school friend.
I had my friend come over to work on our homework, my parents weren’t home yet and it was just her and I in the house. All of a sudden I started hearing heavy breathing, I got mad at her and told her to stop breathing so hard. She looked at me and said “Me? I thought you were the one breathing hard.”
Then the breathing sound changed from being right next to us to being all around us like the house itself was breathing. We lit out of the house so fast we almost left scorch marks. We wound up hiding across the street till my mom got home then we tried to tell her what happened and she just put it down to two over active imaginations.
Another haunted house we lived in, my mom actually was witness to the weirdness going on so she couldn’t just laugh it off. I was about 9 and was having a slumber birthday party. My older brother was spending the night with a friend because he didn’t want to be hanging around a bunch of giggly little girls.
It was just my mom, me, and about a dozen other girls in the house. The house was a two story but we didn’t use the upstairs for anything and it only had an old upholstered rocking chair up there. We were all in the living room playing a game when all of a sudden the lights went out and we all heard a “Scrape… thump, thump, thump… scrape… thump, thump, thump…” from upstairs.
We all started screaming of course, but my mom got us all calmed down and said that we probably just blew a fuse and that maybe my brother had sneaked home and was trying to scare us. There was only one way to the upstairs and the door was in plain view of us the whole time. But my mom grabbed a flashlight and headed for the door to the upstairs.
Of course all of us girls were huddled up right behind her. When we got up stairs the old rocking chair that had been sitting in the corner was now in the middle of the room slowly rocking. My mom thought that my brother had maybe climbed up from outside and got in one of the windows and was hiding behind the chair so she went and looked behind it. There was noting there, and the chair just kept rocking.
She kept trying to keep us calm and tell us that it was probably just my brother but I checked the windows and found that they were all locked tight. There was no way my brother could have gotten in and out of a locked window and there was no way he could have gotten up or down the stairs without any of us seeing him.
Then the lights came back on and the chair was still rocking. We had finally had enough and ran back down the stairs, my mother locking the staircase door behind us.
Just ask if you want more stories… I’ve had a lot of odd experiences like that over the years.
Pasha… truly spooky! Apparently the rocking chair ghost wanted the chair in another location… maybe there was a draft or something…. maybe he/she thought you girls was making too much noise… and wanted to shake things up a bit…. whatever the reason… that was pretty hair-raising! You obviously have a “vibe” for ghosts… since you say there are other stories as well!
Yup, I got lots of stories like those. I saw the ghost of my favorite uncle when I was a kid too.