I often worried if I was insane, it may even be my greatest fear... but at the very least it's always a skeptical thought in the back of my head. I guess my hope is that as long as I am aware of it I can stay away from it, right... that's the theory at least.

So, the very first night in the new house of course had me doubting my sanity yet again. I didn't have anything with me the first night here, no bed, no clothes, not even a toothbrush (don't worry I never leave home without mouthwash).

I laid down in the floor, on a blanket I found at the house, mainly just to relax from a long day of packing. It wasn't long before I heard it, at first I thought it was the neighbors and it was disheartening that it wasn't gonna be as quiet here as I had hoped. But I checked outside, that's not where the noise was coming from. So, back on the floor I laid, this time with my ear directly to the floor. There was without a doubt noises coming from the basement/garage. I went downstairs to check, but again, I found no source for the noise. So, back to the floor I go... to listen. The sounds kept up for over an hour... always the same even tone.

It sounded like a man singing, vaguely Irish, but I couldn't make out any of the lyrics. I heard it once or twice more in the next couple of weeks... always when I'm alone, at night, and the house is quiet. It doesn't sound sad at all, rather like the person is truely enjoying themselves, perhaps singing while they work, although I don't hear any noises that imply any work going on. Each time I try to listen closer, to understand the words, but no. It's never very loud, and once it starts there's no break in song until it finally stops. I wonder when there's time for a breath, but I don't guess ghosts have to breath... so it must make singing much easier.

Then, the noises started, all in/around the house, none in the basement (so far as I can tell). First I heard a few noises upstairs (in the add-on attic) and I assumed they were just my cats as they love to play up there. But after hearing the noises a few times, I decided to check on the cats and found them fast asleep on the mainfloor. So, I ignore the noises, like any sane person would, right... assuming of course, it's an old house, it's wood, it creaks, it settles, no big. The noises were of a banging sort though, not exactly creaky, but we can pretend. Then the noises moved to the mainfloor, or maybe not moved, just that I finally heard them there. First there were lil metallic clinky noises, then cracking footstep type noises. Always very faint and never lasting more than a moment... and always in another room. Far enough away that when I go to check to see what it is, it's done by the time I arrive.

And then last night... I was in the livingroom, with all the lights off, as usual, checking my email. My aunt had just sent pictures from my grandfather's funeral. A few pics into the series, the waterworks began. And a moment after that, the noise. It's right behind me, as if right next to my back. All my animals are in the room with me, none of which are moving... they're fast asleep around the room. It feels as if this cold wind sweeps down from the ceiling behind my back, almost touching me... but all I can say I feel is the wind, the wake of something moving quickly past. And that noise, I'll never forget that noise... because it's something I've heard in this house a few times before, but never could place it or follow it. It sounds like paper, if paper could fly of its own freewill and volition. I know that makes a lot of sense, but that's the only way I know to describe it. It felt/sounded as if a HUGE piece of paper flew down at me, whipped around and flew back up into the rafters. Of course it's too dark to see anything, movement or otherwise, not that I really wanted to. I did however get up, quickly, and turn on the lights, thinking perhaps there was a bat in the room, but not that I could see. I couldn't find anything out of place, muchless anything that could have made that noise.

But, it made me think... made me remember... the last time I'm sure I saw a ghost. It was the last time someone in my family died. [begin insane babble] I wonder is there some kind of connection? Is this my punishment for choosing never to go to funerals? Is there really some unseen connection between family? Is this house haunted, is that why I chose it or do the ghosts just come with me? Why does it only happen late at night, is there really something to the 'witching hour'? How do I ask the landlord if they've ever heard anything about the house being haunted before (without them thinking I'm crazy and kicking me out)? [end insane babble]

I'm really excited and a lil scared. If there is someone/thing here, I'd hope it makes contact... and that it's not malevolent. I really do love this house, I'd hate to move just because some ghost doesn't want me here. But I don't feel unwelcomed or threatened, yet... just a bit unnerved. Everyone wants an explanantion to the bumps that go on in the night, right. Especially when ignoring it doesn't make it go away.

Oh, and did I mention the drafts... there's two of them, both on the mainfloor, one in the new part of the house and one in the old. [this house is close to a hundred years old... the main part, but there's an addon that (I'm guessing) happened sometime in the 60's and thereafter] It's not all the time, and not even just at night, just sometimes I pass through the hallway and feel it. It's like a whirlwind, a mini tornado. I feel the air, colder than the rest of the house, circling me as I pass, often a bit disorientating... slowing my footsteps each time. I'm still blaming a drafty old house, but I can't help but feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise as I pass through it.

I will remain ever skeptical, but I have to admit my doubts are waning.