STILL without phone, internet, or cable. But that's still way better than most folks.
Our township rescheduled Halloween. It's now Friday night. Weird.
I'll be getting to emails and blog comments whenever we're connected again. And that might be a while. So many trees down.
Happy Halloween, all!
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Another Update
Halloween 2012: Skull Witches
My grandmother would tell us the story,
On each Halloween.
About something deep in those woods.
She called them Deathlies and Deadlies.
And she said they guarded 'the Witches,'
Witches with skull faces...
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Update
Survived the storm with no damage.
Just no cable, phone, or internet.
Neighborhood filled with branches and a lot of downed trees.
Sitting in a pizza shop using their wifi.
Looks like Halloween is a go.
Chilly and cloudy tomorrow.
Wishing everyone well.
Hope you're all safe.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Precautions And All That
The pre-Halloween set-up was a success. Got some cool photos and had a really great time. There were moments where I was convinced it really was Halloween night.
I'm hoping that this stupid storm doesn't do what they're saying. In anticipation of the wide-spread power outages they're predicting, I'll be setting a blog entry to post on Halloween morning. I'll have a few of my favorite photos from last night's shoot in there. Doing it prior to the High Holiday just didn't seem right (though the blog heading photo is from last night).
If the power IS out on Halloween and beyond, I'll take this time to wish everyone a magical and safe Halloween. Hope the night is a blast and you get tons of trick-or-treaters and beautiful weather.
Happy Halloween!
Friday, October 26, 2012
Where's The Goon?!
Taking a break from setting up. Going really well. Feels a little like a warm Halloween. Overcast with a slight breeze. Should be great for my chilled fog tonight.
The neighbors stopped down with their children to see The Goon...I heard "OH NO!!! WHERE'S THE GOON?!!"
I had to explain that The Goon transformed for Halloween...the kids seemed to buy it. Super nice people...lots of laughs. They are stopping over tonight for some candy. As well as some other neighbors I talked to today.
Halloween's a little early this year.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
No. Noooooo. NO. NO. NO.
Forecast guidance is indicating that the steering pattern for Sandy is setting up to be a potential major concern for the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic.
A so-called "blocking pattern" in the upper levels of the atmosphere over the Atlantic appears to be strong enough that it most likely will not allow the storm to turn east into the open Atlantic, but, rather, drive northward just off the East Coast.
In addition, an upper-level trough in the polar jet stream could provide an additional turbo-charged boost to this low, producing an intense, East Coast storm.
If this scenario plays out as illustrated above, high winds, heavy rain, major coastal flooding and beach erosion could pummel portions of the Northeast seaboard early next week. Of course, the high winds would extend inland, with the potential for downed trees and powerlines.
This setup could even wrap in just enough cold air on its western edge to produce wet snow, possibly heavy, in some areas of the eastern Great Lakes and Appalachians! Eerily, this would take place around the one-year anniversary of the "Snowtober" snowstorm.
That said, the details on the magnitude and the exact location of the potential impacts described above are highly uncertain at this time.
Residents of the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic should remain vigilant and be prepared to take action in the next few days.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
8:18
My
neighbors are quiet people. I rarely see them, but when I do there's
always a friendly wave or a warm smile. We almost never interact, so when
they asked me over for dinner I was a little surprised. And truthfully a
little uncomfortable - I had gotten used to our somewhat antisocial
relationship. I had grown accustomed to our distance. I'm a bad
liar, so it was easier to say yes
than to make up some excuse. They told me the night and the time and I told
them I would be looking forward to it.
I'll admit that I had a very nice time. We didn't say much
during dinner, but I felt welcome, comfortable, and relaxed. Closer to 8:00,
I noticed they had begun glancing at a clock on the wall. Often, and with
great discomfort. And then with a palpable panic.
They feigned reassurance when I asked about their change in
demeanor. They both attempted to explain their behavior in overlapping
dialogue. I found this particularly unsettling. Over their frantic
words, I announced my appreciation for their hospitality and began to stand.
But then he asked, "Do you believe in ghosts?"
I
was startled by the question and very uncomfortable. I wanted to
leave. Badly. I answered his question and told him that I had an
open mind to such things. And he asked me to sit.
He told me that he and his wife have had experiences.
He said that their house had a presence...a ghost. He said that it came
often. Every night in fact. He said it started in a corner of the
basement, came up the stairs, opened the cellar door, and walked through the
living room, into the dining room, and through the furthest wall. He
pointed at the wall next to where I was sitting.
I realized this was the purpose of the invitation. They wanted a witness. Needed one. I could only think of two questions: What does it look like? and When does it happen?
He answered my last question first: At 8:18. Every single night.
We looked at the clock on the wall - 8:12.
Then he answered my first question: We don't know what it looks like.
When I asked him to explain, he told me they had both been unable to look at the presence. He said he and his wife have tried all these years, but can't. I found this absurd. And the entire story, which I had actually begun to believe was now either a hoax, a distasteful joke, or a delusion of two very disturbed people. I pushed back my chair and stood.
A noise. From under our feet, in the basement. They looked down at their plates. I looked at the clock - 8:18.
I could hear deep slow labored footsteps. They sounded miles beneath us, but I knew that wasn't the case. And then I felt the vibration. A sickening wave of a nauseating low hum forced me hard into my chair, my legs and knees weak and useless. I could hear the basement stairs creaking underneath a massive shifting weight. I wiped cold sweat from my face. The nausea was unlike anything I had ever felt. I heard the knob of the cellar door be gripped, and then turned. Slowly. The door began to open. The vertical crack of darkness from the creaking door seemed to release an even more intense low frequency hum. I tried to stare into the darkness, to see. To see IT.
But the putrid vibration was overwhelming. My body contracted. My legs and arms were drawn inward. My entire body gripped the chair. I could feel the muscles of my face contorting, and my eyes, as much as I fought to keep them open, closed. Tight.
I could hear It. Moving across the wood beams of the living room floor. They seemed to be groaning and splitting. The sickening waves of vibration seemed to rattle every loose object in the house. I wanted to cover my ears, but the piercing hum kept me frozen in place. I tried to scream out, but the muscles of my jaw refused. So I listened to it, coming closer and closer. Ripples and waves of the sickening sound covered me. I felt myself on the verge of fainting. And I welcomed it.
But then It was gone. I opened my eyes. Just the three of us, in a quiet undisturbed house. Nothing seemed out of place. Except for the open cellar door.
That was three months ago. We haven't spoken since. And each night, despite making every effort to be busy or out of my house altogether, I find myself standing at the window which faces their house. Looking out across our ordinary lawns. Staring at that wall. At 8:18.
I realized this was the purpose of the invitation. They wanted a witness. Needed one. I could only think of two questions: What does it look like? and When does it happen?
He answered my last question first: At 8:18. Every single night.
We looked at the clock on the wall - 8:12.
Then he answered my first question: We don't know what it looks like.
When I asked him to explain, he told me they had both been unable to look at the presence. He said he and his wife have tried all these years, but can't. I found this absurd. And the entire story, which I had actually begun to believe was now either a hoax, a distasteful joke, or a delusion of two very disturbed people. I pushed back my chair and stood.
A noise. From under our feet, in the basement. They looked down at their plates. I looked at the clock - 8:18.
I could hear deep slow labored footsteps. They sounded miles beneath us, but I knew that wasn't the case. And then I felt the vibration. A sickening wave of a nauseating low hum forced me hard into my chair, my legs and knees weak and useless. I could hear the basement stairs creaking underneath a massive shifting weight. I wiped cold sweat from my face. The nausea was unlike anything I had ever felt. I heard the knob of the cellar door be gripped, and then turned. Slowly. The door began to open. The vertical crack of darkness from the creaking door seemed to release an even more intense low frequency hum. I tried to stare into the darkness, to see. To see IT.
But the putrid vibration was overwhelming. My body contracted. My legs and arms were drawn inward. My entire body gripped the chair. I could feel the muscles of my face contorting, and my eyes, as much as I fought to keep them open, closed. Tight.
I could hear It. Moving across the wood beams of the living room floor. They seemed to be groaning and splitting. The sickening waves of vibration seemed to rattle every loose object in the house. I wanted to cover my ears, but the piercing hum kept me frozen in place. I tried to scream out, but the muscles of my jaw refused. So I listened to it, coming closer and closer. Ripples and waves of the sickening sound covered me. I felt myself on the verge of fainting. And I welcomed it.
But then It was gone. I opened my eyes. Just the three of us, in a quiet undisturbed house. Nothing seemed out of place. Except for the open cellar door.
That was three months ago. We haven't spoken since. And each night, despite making every effort to be busy or out of my house altogether, I find myself standing at the window which faces their house. Looking out across our ordinary lawns. Staring at that wall. At 8:18.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
One More Unfortunate
It was midnight -- a black, wet, midnight -- in a
great city by the sea. The church clocks were
booming the hour, in tones half-smothered by the
marching rain...
Ambrose Bierce
Image by Sierra Zero.
Text source.
Restaurant Reaper
We saw this guy hanging around the outside of a restaurant in Bucks County. Probably waiting for someone to choke on a bone.
Up the block we found this fun display...
Now Playing: Sleep Games
Here are two tracks from Pye Corner Audio's awesome new album:
Into the Maze
and
Sleep Games
Monday, October 22, 2012
Cloudy
So who else has been checking the completely unreliable 10-day forecast like a nervous ferret?
Why does the human race even HAVE a 10-day forecast?
And weather.com actually has a "Halloween" option to click.
Preceded by 3 days of rain, it seems I'm going to have a cloudy Halloween:
"Cloudy. Highs in the upper 50s and lows in the low 40s."
This year I vow not to keep checking.
Until tomorrow.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
The Goon
Finally stuck a light in this guy.
Every day around sunset, a family from around the corner brings their two small children to look at the scarecrow. They were walking away two nights ago as I was going out to turn his light on (for the first time). They came running back saying "Look! The Goon lights up!" They told me they've been calling him The Goon.
I kinda love that.
And I think he's now The Goon.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
Thursday, October 18, 2012
And They Never Found His Hand
Click below for a nice bit of horror music from my personal fave composer James Horner:
Image source.
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