I have been moving rather slowly today... Partly because I've been sitting infront of the TV most of the morning and partly because I had quit a bit to drink last night(I think I had six beers). That is usual for me if I'm hanging out with my family. Who am I kidding, that is commen while hanging out with almost anyone... Except I change out the beer with gin and tonics sometimes.
But that is besides the point...
My brother and I with our significant others were hanging out at a local bar with my cousin and his wife. They had dropped off their three little girls with another family member and so we stayed up late drinking.
Now I will tell you why I have that ugly pink house at the top of the post. That use to be my grandmothers house. It was white before... I really wish to bye that house again... Just to paint it white again. Pink really is the ugliest color. Anyway, whenever my family is together we usually tell stories of that house. My mom and all her siblings grew up there and several of the cousins (myself included) lived there with grandmother at one point of our lives.
The stories started again last night, mostly for Arthur's enjoyment. We call this house the "big house." This house is also incredibly haunted... No joke! Everyone in my family has a story of seeing ghosts at this house. The place is over 100 years old and has definite cold spots in the room upstairs. Trust me, it is creepy.
Let me tell you one of the stories...
This is of the people who owned the house before my family. My mother and several of my aunts were working on the house (something I remember doing all the time as a child) and an old man came to the door. My family had never seen him before so they asked him what wanted.
The old man said that he wanted to see the place where his brother died one last time before he died. My family was more than happy to hear his story... We always need explanations for why the house is so damned creepy.
We had a bit of land out behind the house and there is this pond back there as well. The old man said that he and his younger brother use to go play back there when he was little(he was 6 or 7 years old and his brother about 4 years old). One day they decided to go out on the pond in a tub. I don't remember what happened to the tub, but something made it sink. The old man said that he made it to the side alright, but his little brother drowned. After that happened, his family moved away. That was the first time he had been to the house since.
I can say that this explained alot. For instance, the ghost of a laughing little boy running around in the back sometimes(scared the crap out of one of my uncles one time). The tub in the pond... Well, I was confused why it was there.
After the old man told his story he left and that was the last time my family saw him.
Well, that is just one of the stories. I tell this one because I am fairly positive it is true. I'm not sure about all of them. I mean I come from an Irish Catholic family that loves nothing more than to drink and tell ghost stories. Ah... It makes me miss the place. There is nothing cooler as a child than growing up in a haunted house.
I guess I've written enough for now. Maybe I'll tell more later if you wish, or I could move on to another subject... Later!