Last But Not Least: 63 Victoria Street

Here is the last of the ghost posts.There have been other creepy places we've lived in but I am bored of it all now. Ghost stories should be told and not written.
Right, Vic Street. I don't even know where to start. There have been numerous sightings and special effects here over the 12 years that we've called it home. I had a basement tenant leave because he said it was too spooky downstairs and that he felt someone, a man, watching him all the time. It was my astral body more than likely as the deadbeat didn't pay his rent. Hannah and Toria talk of seeing people who are there one minute and gone the next. Hannah got tucked in one night and it wasn't by me!
I felt someone sit on my bed while I was going to sleep and when I turned to see which child it was there was nobody there but the impression of someone's bottom in the duvet was left behind.
Toria came upstairs to my room to tell me supper was ready. I was sat staring out the window and didn't speak to her. She came back downstairs to find the real me in the living room. Who then was on my bed? Who indeed.
We have had the house smudged and blessed and Scioed and the Others leave for a bit but then they come drifting back. It is after all their home too. They have been here longer than we have. We would like to leave them here in peace but the house just won't sell and we can't leave until it does. Perhaps I should ask them to pull strings and get the job done. Hmmm... it's a thought.

Mr. Murphy

Poor old Mufferpaws bit the dust today. He has been suffering for quite a while and it all got to be too much so off he went to heaven with some very costly help from the vet. Then we had a little burial in the secret garden and some funeral baked meats to follow. Toria is very sad. Murf has been with her for more than half her life. He's there in the garden with quite a gang, one of which is his brother, Benny.
I used to call the two of them the Blues Brothers as they were always in black and did everything together. If it hadn't been for Murphy's little white spot on his chest they looked just like each other when they were kittens. They were County boys and brought their wild ways to Aurora where we would find dead squirrels on the doorstep. They would follow me down the street where one day an Aurora matron stopped me to coo over them and ask me if they were Burmese. I said no, they were Barn.
Poor Benny popped his little clogs years ago when he had his second encounter with a fast car and a hard road. Murphy still had Nigel for catty company, then went off with Toria to lay waste to the Riverdale area. I don't think he was too happy about the last move to the Skybox as the opportunities for throwing his weight about were no longer there. He was confined to barracks and I think began to feel his age.
Poor Mufferpaws. We'll miss him.

Ghost Story Number Two: 33 Allister Ave.

Well we sold Winston Ave and moved east to the Bluffs to a house with a big garden. We thought we had left all the heebie jeebies behind and for a while all was quiet on the Scarborough front. About six months after we had moved I was on the ouija board with my sister. We were just messing around when the little table started whizzing through the letters like mad. It told us that (I can't remember the name) wanted her Mother. I began asking specific questions and it seemed it was the little white spirit that had frightened Heinrich back in Winston Ave. She had died in a fire and was looking for her Mother. We told her her Mother was waiting for her in Heaven and she should look for her there.
Suddenly the table shot off again telling us that someone whose name we didn't know had been pushed down the stairs. It had not been an accident and she had wanted the baby she was having. We couldn't make head nor tale of this and thought no more of it, though I had noticed that the dog would never go up the stairs but rather sat at the bottom and growled towards the top as if something was up there that we couldn't see.
A few months after the ouija session I was talking with my next door neighbour. She told me that she was wife #2 as wife #1 had taken a tumble down the stairs when she was 8 months pregnant. Her little boy had come home from school and found her dead on the floor. I have to say the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. I never told her about the ouija board and what it had told us. Who would have believed it?

Ghost Stories: 13 Winston Ave

Okay kiddiewinks gather round, here is a real live spooky story and the house is still there!
Over 30 years ago we bought our first little house near the Beaches. It was an expensive piece of crap, badly designed and badly made. Post first world war, clash it on the market sort of construction.
We loved it. Our first little home with a GARDEN!
Once we had settled in and its flaws had become more apparent I began to wake up in the night hearing a child crying for its mama. I would stumble into the back bedroom where the offspring were, to find them fast asleep. Back to bed, only to have it happen again and again. I woke up properly one night to hear the cry coming from the closet in my room not the back bedroom. Being too tired to care I pulled the covers over my head and went back to sleep.
Not long after, Heinrich was upstairs having a nap when he came crashing down the stairs looking like he had seen a ghost. Seems he had. He had woken up to find a small child standing beside the bed. He thought at first it was Martina in a white nightie but when he looked closer the child appeared to have a melted face!
Next up, I was sitting on the top step near the bedroom feeling sad about something or other when I felt a pair of arms come around me from the back and give me a comforting hug. As far as I knew I was alone in the house. I was down the stairs and out the front door faster than you could say Jack Robinson!
The house went on the market after that but that was not the end of it. Our little lost friend followed us!

Keeping It Tidy (And Sane)

Well the hacienda has been on the market now for two weeks and a number of people have trooped through but no one seems too keen. There was one woman who came back twice then went to the town to check on zoning and seemed all confused by it. Our agent took her in hand and went to the town with her and found out that she has commercial properties. She was acting dim it seems so that we would lower the price for her to help her, I guess, in her dilemma. I ask you!
We have Maya coming on a semi regular basis to "bottom us out" but the day to day is up to us. Neither one of us is what you would call domestic. One of us never sees the crumbs and the other can't at this moment use the vacuum.
One old darling went through today and will buy it as soon as God sends her the money. I ask you again! Well what do I know? Maybe God will.
We also found out that the Town has no idea that most of the houses on our street are commercial so have been telling folk that it's all residential. !!!!. Now we are embroiled in letters and zoning maps to the idiots at the Planning Department to get this all straight. Again one of us loves all the nitpickingness of this and the other if it could wants to run screaming into the nearest wood(that would be Sheppard's Bush) tearing out it's hair.
Well that's what it takes to sell your house these days if it has any unique qualities at all. This place is loaded so we may be keeping tidy for a while yet.

Aeschylus Says...

"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God."