Scary to leave

Wednesday, 19 September 2018

Light work today. Two hours at the barn and two hours working in the house. The break is needed. Did ten to twelve hour days all last week, which is a lot for me when it’s mostly all physical. It’s also my last days on the farm. It’s clear to me now that this has been a transitional phase in my life, never meant to be a stopping point. Vitally important but temporary. I’ll be going north. To see, to see if, man, ok, to see if we can breathe life into our relationship.

Shoveled some of the last of my dirt today. Anxious to leave at this point– just want to get on with my life. At least that’s how it feels. Though I’ll miss the solitude and night walks. I’ll miss the small town up the road too. Terry the barber was the reason, the catalyst, for my homecoming attendance. During my haircut, he pushed for me to go. Hometown pride and all. We ran into each other at the game and lamented the home team’s performance over nachos.

The downside, however, of a sparsely populated area is that I’ve watched too many horror movies. I tried to go out to the barn at night, like I’ve wanted to, but I just couldn’t do it. The barn, I mean, it’s literally in the middle of a cornfield. Come on. Either a guy in a jumpsuit and hockey mask is going to turn up right behind me or there’ll be an alien abduction. It was a terrible mistake to watch Fire in the Sky as a kid.

I don’t particularly like going to the basement here. Of course, who does? But I needed to go down there early today. Doubly creepy since I’m all alone tonight. As I descended, there were noises from the far end. I muttered aloud, “Yep. Sounds about right. Obviously there’re noises.”

It didn’t slow me down. I even decided to take some pictures, realizing that I had taken none of the basement.


Above, the first room looking into the second. A third room can be found straight ahead and to the right.


Third room. Not creepy at all. Really hope it was the owner who moved the chair into the room. If not, well, I guess it would have to be the faceless old lady who secretly lives in your home.