Category Archives: That Indiana Home

That Indiana Home Pt. 3

At this rate I’ll be blogging a lot.

The other morning I woke up at 6 like I normally do and I used the bathroom, then I took Rosie, our new dog, outside to do her business. While outside I noticed the bathroom light was on. I knew I had shut it off, so I figured maybe my dad or wife were using it.

When we went back inside just a moment later, the bathroom light was out, and so was my dad, fully reclined in his chair, completely covered from head to toe in blankets, and snoring, just like he was when before I took Rosie outside. Still, could’ve been him. And regardless if I had forgotten to turn the bathroom light off, it was off when we got in, so something either turned it on, or off. Or both, which I’m guessing. Probably Mae. At least I hope it’s Mae.

Today my wife went into her office and came back out. She locked the door with a hook latch, just to keep the door closed because it doesn’t stay closed on its own. She’s got a mother cat nursing babies in her office and she doesn’t want Rosie getting to them, so we have to keep the door locked.

A couple hours went by and she looked up to see her door standing open, the hook latch had come off.

From one door locking to another unlocking. Mae’s really at it.

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That Indiana Home Pt. 2

We’ve now been in our new home for a few weeks and nothing has really gone on. At least not that we’ve noticed. Until yesterday when we had another incident with the fridge. My bread was in it. Just like how the beer was out of it that one time, our bread was in it when I went to make a sandwich. I thought my dad had done it, but today he told me he had not and that he hates cold bread. Neither my wife or I had done it because we don’t like cold bread either. I believe Mae is messing with us.

Just like I believe she locked me out of the house earlier today. Jen and I came home with our laundry done (we now have to use a laundromat) and we were making multiple trips from the car to the house. On my second trip with a handful of laundry, I couldn’t open the door because the deadbolt was locked. I went to get the keys but my dad was coming outside and let me in. He was shocked to have to unlock it and claimed he hadn’t locked it. He was the only person to use the door after I had come outside. We don’t use that lock except at night anyway.

One thing’s for sure. With these last few things that have happened, I’m the one being focused on. I can’t wait to see what else goes down!

That Indiana Home Pt. 1

Remember I told you my dad lived on a farm that used to be a pay lake? And how he’s had some interesting things happen to him in the past there, including a ghost man who spoke to him twice, and ghost cars that seem to speed up and down the driveway, revving their engines and slamming their specter doors in the middle of the night.

Well, not much has happened lately, though my dad tells me sometimes the TV remote will be in places it shouldn’t be. My wife and I are moving in with him to help keep an eye on him. His health isn’t the greatest and I don’t like him living alone that far in the middle of nowhere. Since we’re moving out we’ve been going out more often to clean and get ready for the move.

Tonight we stopped out and something interesting happened to all of us. First though, my dad told me how he has a selection of kitchen knives in a wood block on the counter next to the stove. One day he walked by and noticed it was gone. He asked the former owner if she had come in and taken it with her and she said no. Then a few days later it appeared back on the counter like it had never left.

That same counter is where what happened tonight went down. Dad told me he had some beer in the fridge and to get one if I wanted, so I did. It was a six pack of that new Budweiser/Jim Beam beer.

Recreation.

I distinctly remember opening the fridge and pulling out the bottle from the six pack box without touching the box, and I shut the fridge.

A half hour later my dad got up and went into the kitchen to get a beer. He yelled, “Why’d you leave them on the counter? They’re getting warm.”

I informed him that I hadn’t set them on the counter, or even taken them out of the fridge. None of us had gone into the kitchen since I had grabbed a beer. Actually none of us had moved since I sat back down from getting the beer. And none of us noticed the fridge open or shut, either. But somehow the beers in their box made it out of the fridge and onto the counter, right in front of the wood block with the knives. Apparently they hadn’t been there long, either, cause they were still cold.