humming a tune. . .

Every morning I find myself humming a tune as the dogs and I set out on our early morning adventures. Usually it's some little ditty that Lukey has been singing in his preschool class. The past couple weeks I have been humming

Squirrel. . .
Squirrel. . .
shake your bushy tail.
Squirrel. . .
Squirrel. . .
shake your bushy tail.
Wrinkle up your little nose.
Put a nut between your toes.
Squirrel. . .
Squirrel. . .
shake your bushy tail.

Either Miss Lynn would be proud. . .or afraid. . . But I can't seem to get that song out of my head.

Until this morning. . . .

I was humming along on my way. Not really paying attention. Just singing along.
Watching quirky DMZ quickly disapper down a side road with his dogs before I get too close (yep, he's definitely a story for another day).

Humming. Strolling. Keeping up our pace. Turn left. Check out the pumpkin and spider lights. Getting closer to the real haunted house. And that's when I notice it.

The song.

The song I have been humming since I left the house.

Rolling Stones. Paint it Black.



You know the song? The one that accompanies Kevin Bacon through Stir of Echoes. What the heck is wrong with me? Am I trying to entice the spirits out to me on the street?

Dear Sam asked me last night if a head lamp would make me feel better as we had our morning walk.

Ha!

So sweet. So naive.

Told him that perhaps a cross, some holy water, and maybe a stake might do it.

He suggested I bring Blade with me.

Now he's talking. . .