AIR diary blog #3

 Been busy stomping away at my book. Writing. Re-writing. All was pretty peaceful here at the AIR house for the past week. Last I spoke of it here AIR diary blog #2 all of those people have since gone. Yesterday new arrivals showed up and I'm still confused about the room to the left of me. Their bedroom light is always on. Always. Any time day or night whenever I pass that room the light is always on. It's on now at 3:50am. Weird. I never see anyone going in or out of that room. I have concluded that it's haunted. The other two rooms have new people in them. One of the rooms has a woman and a little child, or a couple and a little child aaaand they smoke pot. Nice. They have a kid and they do drugs in front of the kid. Crackerjack parenting right there. 

At least the last person who came home last night locked the front door. Sometimes they don't. Sometimes they don't even shut the front door. Crazy. I'm so gonna die. Just let me finish my book! 

I was going to buy a small mini fridge for my room but the very nice housekeeper gave me one to borrow that works great. Super thanks to her. I still might buy a toaster for the room. 

The book is coming along nicely I must say. I'm still looking for work as eventually the money may run out before this book is finished. Let me just say, the chapter I'm currently working on scares even me to write it. I've gotten soft in my old age, or maybe I've just gotten that good at writing freaky shit.

I'm from a rather unknown Midwest state called Minnesota. Not much is known about that state publicly I've come to realize except the future vice president is currently governor there, the movie Fargo, and a little myth people call, "Minnesota nice". We're not really "nice" people, we're just super chill. 

Outsiders: "OMG did you know that farm across the road has a slaughter barn!"

Us: "Yep."

Outsiders: "Did you know there still blood-stained tools inside of it like saws and meat hooks?"

Us: "Yep."

Outsiders: "Did you know everyone says it's haunted?"

Us: "Yep."

Outsiders: "Did you know in 1964 a farmer butchered his wife in the slaughter barn?"

Us: "Yep. Guessing that's why folks think it's haunted."

Outsiders: "That doesn't freak you out?"

Us: "Nope. Staying for supper?"

We're just chill about supernatural and/or murder-y things. No idea why. Maybe because we grew up knowing there was a very strong possibility some of us in my high school graduating class may not live long enough to see 10th grade - from dad's letting their ten-year-olds steer while he's drinking, driving and smoking a cigarette, to parents not knowing where their kids are all summer, to 20 below zero winters and ten-foot snowdrifts, to every kid crossing a lake that isn't completely frozen over, to kids all getting guns by the time we're twelve, to that one completely batshit crazy insane neighbor guy with a dozen animal heads on spikes displayed in his front yard who everyone calls "eccentric". Indeed, some of us kids were not going to make it, and we accepted it. 

Movies like Children of the Corn, that's how us kids in the 70's grew up playing. "Let's pretend we sacrifice all the adults to the demon that lives in our cornfields!" Full on plastic animal masks and axes. 

We all saw many unexplained things out in those cornfields. And as we enter my favorite time of year, autumn, the mood of my writing has also gone into ghostly tales of that one abandoned farmhouse and barn that myself, Laura, her boyfriend David, our friend Shelly, and a boy named Adam, used to hang out in. There was a rope swing, just a long-knotted piece of thick rope attached to a ceiling beam in the hay loft you could swing in and out of the barn on. If you let go of that knot swing as you swung out of the barn you would surely die or be crippled for life. It's amazing how many of my friends and I survived childhood.

Back to writing. 

Sun's up soon. Get my walk in. Check on the stray cats. 

Then back to writing.   

Thanks for the visit.

Lisa