Spirits surround me, I'm sure. It's natural, and it's good.
Or has been good, until a few weeks ago.
At least I want to blame all the little mishaps on spirits for the sole reason I hate to think stuff like this could really happen.
Now that I think of it, I'm not sure blaming spirits is exactly wise. They could get testy, and who knows what trouble a testy spirit could make.
That Monday night storm two weeks back knocked out my telephone service. Nothing on the line but a baby buzz. Since that had happened before, I let it go, figuring it would be cleared up the next day. It wasn't. So on Wednesday I called Frontier and was promised a fix in the next two days. It didn't matter because I was going out of town for two days and wouldn't need a phone anyway.
Home again, I picked up the phone to check. Not fixed. Nor was it fixed by early Tuesday morning, a week after service died.
This has, however, helped me decide I don't really need a land line.
Old people are old school when it comes to stuff like having a phone plugged into the wall in our homes. We've always had a phone and feel like we should always have one. I've updated to the point I have push-button phones instead of rotary, and I might be as smart as my phone now and don't want that to change.
Still. Still is like but, and there's always a but.
Still, I hate to pay for something that cannot be used, and I wasn't able to use the phones for more than a week. Long ago I gave up long distance service on the land line, and I've decided since the phone company doesn't think I need a land-line phone that works, I probably don't. That will save more than $30 a month.
My Internet comes through Frontier, and I'm 98.3 percent satisfied with that.
Making decisions bothers me. I hate indecision, so not being able to make up my mind eats away at my thoughts. It took a lot of deciding to figure out how to pay the young Harris kids when they mow my lawn. Collin did it for a few summers, and now Lauren is taking over the job. They sometimes mow when I'm gone, so paying for the mowing posed a problem.
Finally I decided to tape an envelope onto the inside door and stick money in it so the money was available whenever the lawn was mowed. Well into the third year, this has always worked. Until last week.
Last week the entire envelope was gone, and not to pay for mowing. I want to think some mischievous spirit blew the envelope off the door and I just didn't see it outside on the porch. That's what I want to think. I don't go check so I won't be disappointed.
Those pesky spirits also throw shadows in the bathroom behind the shower curtain. Now that's really spooky. I saw "Psycho."
So long friends, until the next time when we're together.
Sandy Mickelson, retired lifestyle editor of The Messenger, may be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.