I apologize yet again for a lack of pictures. I really wish I would have taken one for this blog entry, yet I did not. So you will just have to get in the right mood and summon your recollections of your favorite creepy house from any given horror movie. Me, I picture the house in Woman in Black or that one where Johnny Depp is writing a novel in an old white house.
Backstory:
So we are having issues with our apartment. One issue after another. We have moved from one apartment within the complex to another because it was so unclean RJ was having allergy attacks, and there were bugs. We couldn't get the dog hair out, because it was stuck in the cracks in the linoleum. And it smelled like sewer. Seriously.
Now we are in the new apartment. First sad story, our bed wouldn't fit up the stairs. So we have a cool downstairs loft like thing going on where our bed is the first thing you see when you open the door, oh, it's actually not that cool. But hey, I can adapt.
Our full bath is upstairs and our shower isn't hot. I mean, Florida people, turn on your cold water, and that is how hot my shower gets. Unless you flush the toilet and then it gets warm, and sometimes a flush will make it so hot it scalds you. Like I have said before, it is like playing shower Russian Roulette. And also someone has to be in the bathroom with you flushing the toilet. I guess thats why I had three daughters with no regard for personal space. I have complained, and no one has done anything about it.
But then.... dun dun duuuuunnnnn.
It started leaking from the ceiling directly under the bathtub. So in my weird living room that houses my bed it is raining, drywall tape is coming down, spackle is coming down and water is driving it all. A plumber came out, cut the ceiling open, and tried to fix it. Then he came out and tried to fix it again. And last night, I filled up the tub with 2 pots of boiled water that I trudged up the stairs and then RJ yelled up to me that it was raining down from the ceiling again. So thats fun.
Oh and there is mold. Lets not forget about the mold. Anywho, we don't want to live here anymore. So we are looking at houses. Rj found one that he liked. It was cheap enough to do some renovations on so last night we drove out to see it. We didn't meet a realtor, we just went to go look at it. We get there and it is creepy.
Okay, get that horror story house in your mind.
It is white, about a hundred years old, it has peeling paint, and old white window treatments on the inside so that you can't really see in unless you go up to the window. We are sitting in the car, Izzy and Emma are asleep, and the house is obviously vacant. I contemplate going to look in the windows, but I am afraid that I am going to look in there and there will be an old rotten lady body sitting in a rocking chair. And then she will open her eyes and say a curse and I will freak out and have nightmares every night for the rest of my life, that is if I don't die of a heart attack from the creepiness of it all. But I guess I wasn't that worried because I got out of the car, opened the creaky patio door and looked in! And there it was. A house with beautiful wood floors, really ugly floral wallpaper and a piano. I let Gwin come look, we looked around, and then got back in the car. I told Rj it was his turn to go look while I sat with the kids.
He asked "Should I?"
I said "There is no one in there, just go peek."
Gwin added "Unless you count the dead person in the closet."
So I guess it wasn't just me that thought this house was super creepy. I thought about waving to the house ghost as we left but, humm. Better not.
