I heart my old house. The door knobs own me. I mean seriously the door knobs own me. But this door knob leads to the spookiest part of this old house. This cellar haunted me as a small child when I grew up here. Tonight husband had to do some home repair on a condensate drain which required a trip into the spooky old cellar. There are no steps here anymore. They have rotted away.
He put on his big boy boots and got his plumber face on and had to take the other entrance into the cellar.
Luckily, Kevin G. was at our house to provide moral support and duct tape. Notice the cat food we had laid out cause we have had missing kittens since Momma Kitty can't nurse so we were putting food in all their usual spots. (*kittens found alive and well)
This is husband getting his plumber crack on and moving into the spookiest, darkest place on the planet. Billy the Exterminator would have loved his guts. Although listening to him squeal when he encountered spiders and hissing kittens was hysterical. I am thankful to report he emerged unharmed.
2 comments:
Scary! Every time I drive by your charming southern estate, all I'm going to think about is the spooky cellar. Reminds me we all have a dark place... even houses. Love you!
That plumber cleavage would make my daddy proud! ;)
Post a Comment