I’ve mentioned Papa Lindsey before: the demented handyman haunting our property. He keeps tabs on what we’re doing through his army of spiders. No matter what we do, there are daddy long-legs on the ceiling, black widows in the sheds, some enormous hideous monstrosity we call Aragog in the mailbox. Clearly they are all reporting back to Papa Lindsey, warning him when we decide to replace one of his precious power outlets or mismatched light bulbs.
But it turns out, the spiders might be protectors more than spies.
It turns out, Papa Lindsey was worried about worse problems than the sufficient proliferation of power outlets. Perhaps my home is a sort of Southern Californian Winchester House, and Papa Lindsey had to keep hand-building crummy additions to keep other ghosts at bay.
This month we finally took action on a crack in the foundation beneath our dining room (these tears I’m shedding are made of dollar bills). The entire room was carpeted when we moved in, so if the damage was already there, we missed it in the home inspection.
Upon peeling back the carpet, we discovered THIS in the concrete where the dining room was added to the main house:
EXCUSE ME? This is far too insistent. Was my house the site of a religious cult? Or was this the work of a pious handyman trying to expel demons?
Upon seeing the ominous inscription, it occurred to me that when we first moved in, there were nails driven into the walls above the windows and doors. Is it possible that these were not the World’s Worst Curtain Fixtures, but in fact iron spikes intended to repel faerie creatures??
Before you accuse me of overreacting, consider this:
Within days of demolishing this piece of concrete and its aggressively protective carving, my sister broke out in all-body hives, my husband threw out his back, and my toddler dislocated his elbow.
DRAW YOUR OWN CONCLUSIONS.