Monday, August 8, 2011

This Old House: Hidden Treasures

When he first tore up the carpet in Gretel's room, the ex-BF found this floorboard. Of course the first thing he did was open it to see if there was, in fact, a SAFE hidden inside. He came up empty. However, the next day, I returned to the house to take some photos of the "renovation" process and investigate on what my intuition was telling me a little further.

First I decided to take a picture of Gretel's room without any carpet, before we painted the unfinished (original wide-plank floors). I was standing directly on the "safe" floorboard when I took this picture.

Pretty colors, right?!

And ... once I previewed this picture on my digital camera, I had to overwhelming urge to open the floorboard up and take another look this time with flashlight in-hand.

First things I found - twigs, acorns and a dead Starling. (No I did not photograph the dead bird.) I'm guessing, by the amount of NOISE from the Starlings that have taken up nest in my gutters that the dried plant debris was brought in by the little guy who became trapped and couldn't figure his way back out.

A little further inside the hole, I recovered a leather button-up woman's shoe and some pieces of newspaper. See the scalloped-edged button holes?! I was the most excited about this discovery. The psychic whom I brought in said it belonged to an Aunt/relative who lived with the family who ran the house when it was an Inn. She tended to the guest rooms and took care of their two children. We believe she had a circulatory problem (diabetes?) which made walking somewhat difficult for her. She told my psychic friend that she would frequently spend her time sitting in a rocking chair, and that she was very happy for the Bentwood rocker I had brought in to the guest room.
Even farther down the space between the floorboards, about 6ft in,  I could see a large whiskey bottle and a children's wooden block - these were waaayyy out of reach. There was no way I could fit in there to retrieve them! Eventually, the exBF managed to drag them out with a broom handle.

The whiskey bottle, the psychic told me, belonged to the town drunk and was stolen during an act of boyhood mischief and then quickly hidden to avoid Father's wrath. The apothecary bottle belonged to the Father and she believes contained some kind of vitamin/health tonic - something he took every day. The wooden block? She told me it was left behind by a young patient of the local physician who frequently paid house calls if guests of the inn would fall ill.

Oh yeah, and we also found this remnant piece of fabric. I forgot to show it to my psychic friend, so I have no information on it. I'm not sure if it was a piece to the little girl's dress, or to a doll, or perhaps the pocket of an apron. Right now, I'm using it as a primitive doily beneath an oil lantern in the livingroom.

I was told there are more toys to be found in the house, as well as a hand fan that belonged to the elderly woman/Aunt/relative. The Father/Innkeeper wanted to know why there wasn't a sign posted at curbside denoting the house as an Inn because that's what is is/was. He also asked where the carriage stone had been put - and said it was still somewhere on the property. Give us a clue dude, and I'll make it right! Sheesh.

So far, I have been unable to get anyone from the local historical society to find any documentation proving the home's history. I'm going to keep looking.

I love this old house and the stories it has to tell. And I am enjoying getting to know the little children energies that are about, even if they are taunting Gretel a little. Kids will be kids - no matter what form they take! The difference is, they're dealing with me now. ;)

Saturday, August 6, 2011

This Old (Haunted) House?

Mommy my back hurts.
It's 1am and 5 y/o Gretel has come downstairs into my bedroom. She can't sleep because her back hurts.
I snuggle her and chalk it up to a gas pain (she is prone to that sort of thing). In the dark, I try to comfort her by laying my hand on the tender spot to give her a little energy treatment.
Her body tenses and she cringes in pain. As she trembles at my touch, I notice her back feels different beneath my hand. Not the smooth baby-soft skin I'm used to. Something is different. A scrape maybe? Something is raised -  definitely.
I turn on the light to investigate the cause of my baby girl's discomfort and see three abrasions along the rib line. Fresh contusions begin to swell around the newly-made tender red marks.
She cries and groans, her back muscles spasming from the recent trauma which cause her to tense them more, increasing her pain.
(Note to self, you have got to STOP panicking when your kids wind up injured because if YOU panic THEY panic! Idiot.)
She cries louder - I DON'T KNOW!!!!
She has no idea what happened or that there were any boo-boos at all.
Until I pointed them out with such grace and panache, that is!  (WTG, Mom!)
She had no recollection of anything nor could offer any insight other than her back is hurting.
WTF? How is that even possible?
Well, we know that's possible. Remember when her brother who fell out of his bed one night landing on a pile of toys and never woke up?
But not this kid. She's always been a light sleeper. Restless, yes. But, THIS?
About a year ago, she started having night terrors no doubt in response to her father's and my separation. But those have mostly seemed to stop. Thankfully!
She does talk in her sleep - a LOT.
And I have recently walked into her room to find her STANDING next to her bed having a conversation in her sleep.
(And as I mentioned in the last post, sitting up pointing at seemingly nothing at the foot of her bed, crying.)
I just can't explain what she did to cause these marks...

This was 2 days after and just before I started giving her a homeopathic treatment for bruises.
It's all conjecture and speculation at this point.
I'm guessing she fell out of her new bed and scraped her back on the wooden siderails on the way down.
But some think it has to do with the orbs.
Carol Anne?

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

This Old House

In June, I moved out of the home the kids and I shared with PrinceCharming for six years, and moved into a cheaper home two miles down the road.

This house was built in the 1800s and once served as a stage coach inn. I LOVE old homes! Love their energy and the stories they tell. I knew as soon as I saw the massive Tara-esque front stair case and the original wide plank wood floors that I had to live here.

Even more importantly, this house was BIGGER than the house we were leaving and it had enough space to offer both kids their own rooms.

I knew as soon as I saw this room that it would be Gretel's. The purple walls were perfect, but with Hansel's asthma, I asked the landlords if I could pull up the carpets in both of their rooms. They gave me the green light and so up they came with the ex-BFs help.

In the process, we noticed a floorboard in front of Gretel's closet that was painted white and had the word "SAFE" written on it. Sadly, there was no safe when we lifted to investigate but I did find some other hidden treasures like a leather woman's shoe just like the kind Ma Ingalls would wear with buttons up the side and everything. I also found an apothecary bottle and old whiskey bottle. I had a psychic friend come in and tell me these items belonged to the family who used to live here when it was the inn. The items are now proudly displayed in the house and I excitedly share this story with everyone who has come to visit. Our very own family of Caspers!!!

It was fun to watch Gretel's room transform into a real little girl's room, just for her. The ex-BF painted her walls a pale lavender to brighten things up, a Twitter friend created beautiful vinyl flower decals which were placed to look as if they were being blown into her room on a magical fairy breeze. Favorite decorations depicting fairies and stars and all-things magical were hung, draped and displayed. New bedding and a custom painted bed fit for a fairy princess provided the finishing touches...

Gretel doesn't like her room.
She prefers to sleep in the middle room which currently serves as a guest room/office for me.
Can someone tell me why this child doesn't like her room?
Is it that she misses her brother?
If that were the case, then wouldn't she have the same trouble sleeping in the guest room BY HERSELF?
Or... does it have something to do with the floorboard and the artifacts that were removed from it?
For those of you who notice these kinds of things, did you notice the orbs in the before photos?
There have been a few other strange occurences, like a strange smell in her room, me finding her one night sitting up from a sound sleep crying pointing at nothing. NO-THING.
I have some theories. And suspicions. And fears.
I'm just not sure which to act on first.

Monday, August 1, 2011


Forgiveness is not something we do for other people. We do it for ourselves-to get well and move on.
My abuser died last month.
And with his death rose a myriad of emotions I wasn't expecting.
Relief. Anger. Grief.
Relief knowing that no other little girls would fall victim to his sick perversions.
Anger because of the lack of adequate punishment for his actions, and the lack of protection I received from my parents during and after the abuse stopped.
Grief over the loss of my innocence and the person I could have been; the relationships I could have had but was robbed of due to my walls of armor and inability to trust.
He's dead but I still have to live with the painful memories and work through the fears.
Fear of being vulnerable.
Fear of being disappointed and let down... again.
Fear of trusting another human being.
Fear of feeling ...anything.
Forgiveness is the key to fully moving on.
I've come to understand that forgiving doesn't mean letting him off the hook for what he did to me for all those years.
It's something I need to do for myself and that it can only be achieved by coming from a place of love and compassion.
I'm closer to getting there than I ever was before, but I'm not there yet.
I know it will come. I know one day something in me will shift and that door can be closed for good.
But that door is heavy, laden with years of guilt... shame... fear... anger.
So for now all I can do is keep pushing, slowly inching my way closer to healing.