Living with Ghosts or Where are you Mrs. French?

Our new house was owned by a woman named Mrs. French.  Her name was on the front door engraved in bronze.  She died at a very old age but not in the house.  I am sorry for that.  I really need her to be around and explain what things are.  This is an invitation to her.  Please come and pay us a visit.  We would love to have you.

It is amazing what you can learn about a person you have never known just by living in their house.  If Mrs. French were to fill out a form telling about herself, I thing she would include some of the following things.

• She loved scotch tape and used it for almost everything.  The back door had scotch tape over the lock so she would not lock herself out of the house.  There was scotch tape on the dryer knob, on the bathtub knob and every door in the house had several pieces stuck to them.  Most of the scotch tape was invisible to my eye and it was several weeks before I began to notice it.  
• She believed that acrylic bathtub chalking was the cure for almost anything.  I think it was on sale at the grocery store.  It was in holes in the wall, on kitchen cabinets, the front window and in the garage.
• She loved flowers but didn't have much of an idea what to do with them.  
• No plant given as a gift was ever discarded.  Each one was carefully planted around the yard, under bushes and near the sidewalk.
• She had a parrot.  It flew about the house free as if it were in the forest.  I figured out that it was a bit of a problem for her. It bit holes in the rubber seal on the old refrigerator. She kept the cage in the den.
• Her dog was tiny and not much bother.  However, it was never house broken.
• She had never disposed of a picture or a frame and hung each and every one on the wall.
• Her husband was a minister that loved guns.
• She did not bake or cook much.

I miss her even though she was not a friend.  I would like to feel her moving about and taking notice of what we have done.  I think the paint on the walls would be okay by her and I think she would feel at home with us.  The garden blooms in strange spots but we have not moved them.  I think she would like that. When the small pink bloom emerged by the front sidewalk I could only wonder what the occasion had been when she planted it.  She would remember I am sure.

So we will be at peace, Mrs. French and I.  Unless the enamel on the stove starts popping off or unplugs itself during a party or a smell appears in a remote corner of the house or water starts dripping mysteriously,  I will believe that she is happy she came back.  I have been told she was a lovely woman.

Happy Halloween Month.  Oh, by the way, the stove problems, the water thing and the smell thing have actually happened to me.  

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