So. You know how you can walk into a room and forget why you
went in there? That happens to me and obviously getting worse now that midlife
(aka menopause) is upon me.
The other day, hubby James
climbed out onto roof so that he could fix weather vane. I went outside and
watched the whole thing, even posted a pic of it. When he was done, I lost
interest in that and was thinking about the next project we could do. I walked into the house and as my eyes
adjusted from the light, I see what appeared to be a blurry figure, visible
from waist down, at top of steps. I freaked out a little as, naturally, I
assume it is a ghost. (like what else could it be) I continued watching,
expecting it to disappear, as ghosts often do, but instead it slowly came into
focus. I thought... “oh, it's just my son, Dusty.” Then I thought.. “No, Dusty is not here!” I
realize now, there is a MAN STANDING IN MY HOME AT TOP OF STAIRS! I yelled out…
WHO ARE YOU, WHAT ARE YOU DOING as I ran INTO the front door, bounced back and
made another dive for it. Before I could grab the handle, however, I sort of
fell onto the side of the recliner, which was fine, as I felt I was fixing to
faint. As I was gasping for air, I hear
a man’s voice, saying, “ange??” and realize it is James calling me from atop of
the stairs… where he had been standing after coming back in from the
roof!!! And yes, I knew he had went out
that way. It’s a sad commentary on my diminishing mental faculties. Life at the Moore’s continues. J