Wednesday 23 May 2007

Things That Go Bump In The Night

I was such a baby before I moved to the country. Terrified by anything remotely ‘supernatural’, unable to watch horror films (I can jump when watching Scooby Doo, to which my children will attest) and secretly still scared of the dark, my worst nightmare was to be on my own at night in an old house, with creaking floorboards, strange rustlings, and owls hooting. Well, guess what? I was obviously meant to overcome those fears, since from day one of moving to the country and living in the old, creaking house with the owls on sentry duty outside, my husband started his mad job involving lots of travelling, which he has only just given up. But because of this, the dark, the owls, the creaking floorboards and me have all slowly, gradually, become friends. Part of my new robust attitude to the middle of the night comes from the mere fact of having young children; as every parent knows to their cost, 2.00 am becomes shockingly familiar once you have a baby. After the first few weeks, when the sense of outrage at actually being expected to get up again and again and DO something at some ungodly hour wears off, the house at night starts to become an old friend. Not one you particularly want to see, admittedly, and one you greet with little enthusiasm, but comfortable and familiar nonetheless. The furniture doesn’t loom out at you in such a menacing way, the mutterings of the house become like the chattering of your family, instead of something vaguely malevolent. Tripping over the cat on a pitch black winter night no longer gives me heart failure (although stepping on something small and squidgy that she invariably brings in still does, but that’s another story). I can wrap the dark around me like a velvet cloak now, and greet my old friend the silvery moon with pleased recognition as her beautiful, spherical face peeps in through the window.

I was surprised, when I first moved here, at the endurance of local legends and superstitions. I’ve lost track of the number of haunted houses that have been pointed out to me in the village. It’s not only old places that can apparently be haunted, of course, but the sense of the past that lingers in these quiet villages, the thatched cottages, the old wool churches, certainly helps to build the atmosphere. As does history itself; Suffolk was prime ‘witch’ country, after all, and has its fair share of trials and burnings. As with many rural areas, there’s something secretive about the hedgerows and fields, too, a sense of something slightly hidden and reluctant to come out into the light. Fanciful imaginings, probably; like most people, I’m quick to disassociate myself from accusations of gullibility, and I always look for the rational explanation first, as when a close friend rented a cottage for a few months while their house was being renovated. The cottage, a picturesque pink-washed dream of a rural retreat, is ‘known’ for being haunted, and my friend was terrified for the four months that she was there. She was the only one who ever felt or saw the presence of a shadowy man, however, and she had very recently lost her baby son, and was obviously in a state of acute emotional distress. Did this distress attract the supernatural, or was the supernatural just a projection of her distress? Who can say, although I’ve always tended towards the latter view.

Yet despite my proclivity for psychological explanations, I think we have a guest in the house – or more probably, it’s us who are the guests. We get a fleeting glance of something in the dining room, a sudden impression on of something flitting past, a change in the texture of the light. It doesn’t always happen, and it’s not in the least scary, yet we’ve both noticed it. We’ve reassured one another that it’s a tick of the light, it’s to do with something passing the window, it’s all reflections and refractions. Maybe. What’s strange is that I really don’t mind - and I never thought I’d hear myself say that. Whatever it is doesn’t bother me at all. This house is my best friend, I love its energy, its 300 year old history, its cheerful shabbiness. Maybe we’re just dreaming – or maybe it’s just the house, not us, that’s dreaming.

28 comments:

Un Peu Loufoque said...

I grew up in a house with a ghost, I always thought this wa quite normal until I was older and found that other people didin't meet strangley transparent women en route to the bathroom.

We do not have one here which is probably good to know as I do not speak Breton adn it is in my experience wise to chat to your ghost jsut to keep them abreast of what is going on.

ps hope you are feelign less fluee

LITTLE BROWN DOG said...

Oooh, lovely, spooky blog! It reminded me of a film with Nicole Kidman in it where the family thought they had ghosts, and as the story progressed, it transpired that Nicole and her family were in fact the ghosts.
I like the idea of a house with history. Hope you feel better soon.
LBD x

Chris Stovell said...

The house sounds lovely - with or without its ghost. Your blog reminded me of the childrens' book 'The Owl Who Was Afraid of the Dark' which helped me to show my girls how not to be afraid at night.

Bluestocking Mum said...

What a lovely spooky blog. You and me do have SO much in common-I am SUCH a scaredy cat!! Even now I can spook myself if I am alone in the house.

Hope you feel better soon. Take it easy.

warm wishes
xx

Milla said...

That film, The Others is scarily good. Could barely watch it - since I'm still a terrible scaredy cat. Which is why it's nice to live somewhere, touch wood, so safe. Having endured 4 and a half years in the Beirut of Bristol's St Paul's with E often away, I know that if push comes to shove I can always deal with it. But I'd really rather not. So, get well soon Suffolk, and meanwhile ...... BOO!

bodran... said...

I liked the hedgerows comment and something damn i've forgot but i liked it!! and you put a feeling i get into words perfectly..brill xo

Inthemud said...

Sorry to hear you're feeling poorly, hope your'e better soon.

I know what you mean about feeling scared in the night but getting used to it, exactly how I was before moving here, but now I've grown used to all the strange noises and only very occasionally do I awake and feel frightened by some creak or other, we do have ghosts but they are harmless, and seem only attracted to soph and I think that was because she was unwell, but the dog sees one sometimes . We all reside together with out worries most of the time!
Lovely blog!

muddyboots said...

Up until my late teens l was not at all happy in the dark. every corner held something. lcouldn't watch scooby doo, dr who, read ghost stories/horror anything. My grandmother was a bit pshyic [sp] could see spirits, & is in fact one herself. l can very easily pick up strange atmospheres. thats enough turn the light back on.

Elsie Button said...

I felt very reassured to read this. I have a real phobia of the dark. I can never spend the night on my own in our house. When my husband has to go to London for the night for meetings i have to get my mum to come and stay. Luckily she lives nearby or i don't know what i'd do. I really need to tackle this fear though because i don't want to pass it on to my daughter. It's really great that you have overcome your fear. I even get freaked out when i have to cross the landing at night to go and feed my daughter, even if my husband is in the next room. it's ridiculous. you have really made me think. thank you!

Sally Townsend said...

Gosh I so enjoy reading your blogs, I agree entirely with your feelings about the house, had a most bizarre experience today but can't repeat it as apparently not everyone loves the thought of a 'presence' although I have alluded to it in the past ! Oh and I've been inside all day too, hope you are feeling better.

Grouse said...

We built our house on a piece of moorland edge- I wonder whether any traces of us will be here in 300 years time?

Elizabeth Musgrave said...

I wonder whether places absorb something of those who live in them. I am sometimes aware out of the corner of my eye of someone moving about outside, not scary, just gentle domestic pottering. Trick of the light as you say. dont generally tell anyone as dont want to have to try to explain.

@themill said...

The house where I grew up allegedly had a ghost, but I never saw anything, but I was always terrified I would. My father claims to have seen her when he was about 5 and told his mother at the time he had been 'eating lemonade pie with Silky'
Strangely, our house now has a wonderfully warm atmosphere, despite the fact that the Hubby's Great Grandmother threw herself and three month old baby down the well in the cellar. Don't suppose they'd heard of post natal depression in the 1870's

Tattieweasle said...

Glad I'm not the only one whose had a bit of a culture shock in Suffolk! Never known a county for it _ I will blog it another day but if you're ever over this way I'll show you mine if you show me yours...

Frances said...

Hello from New York, and many thanks for your comments about how the creative impulse comes to call upon us.
Your blogs are wonderful to read, as you can well tell froma all the comments that have preceded mine tonight. It must be incredible to live in such an old house. The oldest place I have ever lived in was a house in Brooklyn, NY that was built in the 1840's. This was a housing infant by your standards.
Ghosts, spirits. I like the idea that we may leave something in our wake.
Best wishes to you. xo

Cait O'Connor said...

When I was a (mature) student nurse I saw my first ghost; saw her two nights running actually and in the same spot. Like you I wasn't scared at all, I just very calmly accepted the fact she was a ghost. We had a cottage in Sussex which had presences but I only heard them, didn't see them. Our cottage here in Wales is not haunted at all and it has a really benevolent atmosphere. Next door has a ghost. I will write more on this subject in a blog as I could go on far too long!
Lovely blog, as ever.
Caitx

Cait O'Connor said...

Paula Nightingale is the artist, there is a link on the blog.
You and I are very alike in our tastes. My father's family came over from Ireland about the same time as yours, what names have you in your line? You can email me if you'd rather. I am putting a link on the blog when I learn how to do it!
Caitx

Woozle1967 said...

Great to catch up SM! Have had a marathon to trawl through and am finally down to the "S"s today! Loved the atmosphere of your house - you can't beat old houses can you? Speaking of "old" - how dare you look so YOUNG on your photo. That's not allowed for someone forty(just)!!!!!!

DevonLife said...

oh spooky, not sure i would be so brave. am spending the night alone in the country for the first time since we moved in. D is going camping with the boys with beavers, leaving me and baby girl. Wish me luck

Omega Mum said...

I can attest to the jumping at anything remotely scary, not to mention weeping copiously - Charlotte's Web was my Waterloo, at least as far as the water was concerned.

SueInAlmondbury said...

suitably chilled now, hairs on end!
I even got out of bed the other night to swap the dressing gowns around on the back of the bedroom door cos it looked like the grim reaper in the dark!
best wishes x

Pondside said...

I have no trouble at all believing that you have a 'presence' in your house - it's good that both of you are aware of it. It's so difficult when one 'sees' it and the other doesn't. I've never had a scary experience - but a number of very odd ones - mmmmm maybe time for a blog on that subject.
Loved yours!

Faith said...

Come to your blog as always enjoy it. So strange to find it on this subject. I had my daughter's old house blessed yesterday, for two reasons. One because of the violence she was subjected to there and two because of the 'presence' - which Em felt more than Cee actually.

When I was first married to Hub1 aged 19 i was too scared to go upstairs without carrying the cat! Now, I reckon there are lots worse things than those around at night.

Posie said...

Oh I am still a total scaredy cat, living in the country hasn't helped me overcome the fears, still jump at every creak. Apparently with ghosts you just have to tell them to go away if you are not happy with their presence, my friends mum was the castle keeper at Lancaster castle for years, and they met lots of ghosts, but they are happy to go if you ask them.

annakarenin said...

It is funny how different things scare different people. I actually have always loved the dark and being alone in the house but put me in a social situation with strangers and it scares the living daylights out of me. Having said that I am getting better at it and funnily enough having children sortof forces you to confront that one to in many ways.

Primrose Hill said...

Really enjoying reading your blog.
I was exactly the same when we first moved to the country, scared of spiders and the dark. At the time my husband worked shifts so I just had to get on with it and deal with those fears! I'm fine now thankfully, although I do still squeal at large spiders!

Lisa

Cait O'Connor said...

Yes I also got a feeling of connection, we may have shared genes somehere along the line, you never know! My father's roots are in West Cork. You are very welcome to email me now as I have successfully edited my profile to show a link to my email.
Caitx

Exmoorjane said...

Total coward here. Not really scared of real people (which Adrian says is silly as they're the ones that can hurt you) but of ghosties and ghoulies and things under the bed (even after all these years). I could no more sleep with my feet out the bed than swim the channel....
Fabulous blog.