First of all, I shall thank the Academy for this prestigious...Oh wait, wrong award. My bad! Seriously though, I have been bestowed my FIRST EVER award for my ParanorMel blog. It's nice to have it recognized, even though my follower base is under twenty. But who's counting?
I have been given the Paranormal Community Leadership Award by Jessica Penot over at GHOST STORIES & HAUNTED PLACES where Jessica blogs about different places, buildings and homes that are (supposedly) haunted. I highly suggest you give her blog a look-see for yourself. You will NOT be disappointed. I guarantee it.
Thank you SO much, Jessica! But other than you, I have no other bloggers to pass this along to that have not already received it, seeing as I cannot find many good blogs of Paranormal interest. If you know of any, shoot them my way, would ya?
Now, on to the next...As Jason and Grant from Ghost Hunters (which I missed last night, due to crashing from exhaustion last night) like to say at the end of every episode.
On November ninth (I wrote about this the next day on ParanorMel's "Like page over on FaceBook) my husband made all of us go eerily quiet. He heard something coming from the attic. After seeing that all three cats were downstairs or outside, and all of us humans were accounted for, he KNEW it was not a sound that was man or animal made. Especially seeing as the windows were worked on last year to no longer be opened or to let drafts in.
After he mentally figured out what was going on, then my husband finally admitted to me that it was NOT the first time that he had happened upon the sound. Mainly made during the three to five o'clock hours of the very early morning, before he leaves for his differing shifts at work.
Strangely though, this apparent reoccurrence was never even heard by myself or the kids when it happened as we sat at the dinner table. Only my husband had heard the sound. Then he went in to explaining about it and he grabbed a pencil. He started to move it back and forth in a playful manner. The wood could be heard rolling as it went between his fingers.
This is when I admitted about sometimes hearing the footsteps outside the bathroom, in the main upper hallway as I shower, with no other people in the house. And I also admitted to seeing once again, the little boy of about my son's age, and my oldest daughter's height standing the basement foyer's landing.
Now, for the most recent thing to happen to me.. And it was just this past Tuesday.
For the first time ever, since being in the area of Central Virginia, I had gone to Thomas Jefferson's Poplar Forest. You can take pictures of the outside grounds and in the discovery rooms. But there are no pictures allowed to be taken within the retreat home. If you wish to take a gander at the inside of the mansion and learn more about Thomas Jefferson's Poplar Forest retreat, CLICK HERE.
All was well and good with me. That is, until our first stop for within the home was the basement. The wine cellar was also located down there. You can no longer go down in to it, seeing as the stairs had long rotted away and had to be removed. But the original brick is still on its floor, though it is pulling up and the bricks also have now started to rot.
Looking at the old Wine Cellar, I got struck with a "feeling". A feeling of being watched. I knew then, that on this Fifth Grade trip, we were not alone with the Tour Guide that was appointed to us. Even looking across the way, to the other side of the basement, it felt uneasy. I didn't SEE anyone or anything. But I could certainly tell that the energy was static-like. We were being watched. By whom, I cannot say.
Was it by Thomas Jefferson himself? Or could it have been Or could it have been Hannah? She was one of Jefferson's most devout slaves of their time. It could have possibly been even James, who was the "overseer" to the fellow slaves, who was entrusted as the headmaster above the other slaves of the Plantation.
While I cannot say for sure, all I know is that I felt that "someone" was keeping a close eye upon me, the children that were in our class and watching that the homestead was not being abused in any way that would tarnish the look and feel of Poplar Forest.
If you steal from me, I will HAUNT you down!
What is written in this blog, is of the author's own originality. It is the sole views, thoughts, and stories of this blog's author.