Happy Hallowe'en everyone!
I'm snuggled on the sofa tonight in a blanket, watching TV and blogging by the light of the fire and candles. I'm hiding from trick or treaters because I'm a scrooge and don't like people knocking on the door wanting stuff. I'm just as snarky about charity collectors and religious fanatics. If you're not bringing me a parcel or a takeaway I don't want you at my door!
But it's inevitable that one's thoughts turn to all things spooky tonight, being as it is so windy and dark outside and the night when ghosts are reputed to walk amongst us. Do you believe in ghosts?
Lincolnshire is a famously spooky county with more than it's fair share of ghost stories, including haunted RAF bases, stately homes, pubs and even a stretch of road. Our current house is a seventeenth century cottage but despite it's age I've never felt that it's spooky. Unlike the house I grew up in!
I'd always known there was more to our house than most. We moved there when I was five and my dad still lives there now so it's the house I will always call 'home'. But it was definitely a spooky place. You could always, ALWAYS hear people walking about upstairs when there was no one up there. You'd often hear doors slamming too. To be perfectly honest I was rarely scared by these things - they happened so often - day, night, whether we were all in the house or if I was there alone - it was just commonplace.
There were only a couple of occasions when I saw something though;
Firstly, there was the time I was alone in the house, listening to the footsteps upstairs and thinking they were particularly loud. I was starting to feel a bit spooked - all senses on high alert, hairs on the back of my neck standing up. I heard the back door slam, even though I knew I'd locked it when my parents had left the house. I was sitting by the fire and we had a little pottery cat in the hearth, all of a sudden it started to shake, rattling on the hearth tiles. A moment later the cat lifted into the air, over the fender and landed right in front of me on the rug! I jumped up and ran out of the room into the kitchen, just as my parents arrived home. I let them in and told them what had happened. There were some disbelieving faces until we heard a door slam upstairs. We sat in silence, wide eyed whilst it sounded as though there was a party going on upstairs, footsteps storming up and down, floorboards creaking, doors slamming and murmuring voices. I'll never forget the look on my mum's face, she was well and truly terrified! Eventually it all calmed down and we went to bed but no one slept very well that night!
The second time was when I was in my sister's bedroom with her, standing in front of her full length mirrors putting on mascara as we were all getting ready to go out for Sunday lunch. The bedroom door was open behind me and as I was leaning close to the mirror I saw the reflection of a woman walk out of my parent's bedroom. Both of my parents were downstairs and my sister was next to me, there was definitely no one there. Plus she had her hair up and was wearing a long dress ...
So you could say that I have no choice but to believe in ghosts!