Another Haunted Gathering

Halloween gatherings are generally my very favorite kind of gathering, and pretty much every year, we either attend or host one with some of our very best friends. Last year, in Greensboro, we had a pretty damned big one; this year, for a variety of reasons, we opted to go much smaller. Still, it was a dozen freaky folks here at Ground Zero, and it was a hollering good time. Lots of great food, a variety of boos, and a fun brain game or two.

Our friends Bob & Yvonne brought along their 15-year-old grandson, Eli, and he fit right in with this particular gangsome. He decided to leave earlier than our other guests, and since his place is in walking distance, he set out on foot. Now, Eli was wearing an inflatable alien-carrying-a-human costume, which was by no means conducive to graceful mobility. When he left, the road was dark, and he went booking along at pretty high speed. Then... a couple of cars came by and caught him in their headlights. Clearly, the drivers were shocked, for they slowed way down and gave him very wide berth. For us, this provided the biggest laugh of the entire year. You sort of had to be there, but I trust you get the picture.

Sadly, we didn't get that many photos of the attendees in costume. Once things got going, the cameras were pretty much forgotten. Alas! Anyhoo, some of us did snap a few shots from time to time. We ended the evening with a showing of The Mist, which went very late indeed.

We've got another gathering — a Halloween geocaching event — to look forward to, and of course we'll have movies aplenty to keep us busy until the big day.

The House of Haunted Hill

Just hung several paintings by Charles Hill, respected artist and longtime friend going back to elementary school.

Top left: Widget, my mom & dad's little dog back in the 80s and 90s; Top right: the view from Charles's front yard; Bottom left: my dad walking Widget from the early 90s; Bottom right: my daughter, Allison Hiiri Rainey, about age 8, running along the banks of Lake Lanier, just down the street from here.

Charles also provided several damn scary pieces of art for Deathrealm magazine back in its day, including this one, which served as an illustration for Elizabeth Massie’s story, “No Solicitors, Curious a Quarter”:

Movin’ On

Casa di Rodan, 1994–2023

After nearly three decades of living in the same house in Greensboro, NC, I have bid the old place adieu. Casa di Rodan (1994–2023) is now sold. It officially belongs to someone else. Brugger and I are more or less settled in my old family house in Martinsville, VA (although the place is still very much in a state of transition — and for cats, a state of confusion). We have a host of reasons for making this move, but the single most significant is the Great Sewer Line Debacle of 2023, from back in March. Because of that single, massive expense, something had to give.

After inheriting my childhood home when Mom died in 2020, I had hoped to keep both it and the Greensboro residence for as long as possible. However, after spending so much money on that accursed sewer line, holding onto both was no longer financially feasible. It wasn’t all that difficult for Brugger and me to determine that keeping the Martinsville house (which Mom called “Pleasant Hill” but that I officially dubbed “Ground Zero”) made the most sense.

And so it is.

I love the prospect of occupying my old childhood home full-time, though I can’t say I don’t have mixed emotions about the whole business. I moved with my ex-wife into the Greensboro house back in 1994, and we lived there together until our separation and subsequent divorce well over a decade ago. For the next ten years, the cats and I lived in the house as a happy family unit. In 2021, Brugger and I married, and we all became a happier family unit. We immediately set to refurbishing the whole house, which proved to be a long, extensive, and not inexpensive job. Despite the house being relatively small and somewhat cramped, we figured we were set there for a long, long time.

No.

Especially during the solo years (well, solo with cats) and the days with Brugger there, I lived some mighty happy times. Hell, even my ex-wife, Peg, and I shared some enjoyable moments in the old place. My tenure there is the longest I’ve ever lived in one place, so I guess I can’t help having developed some attachment to the dwelling. Still, as the negative aspects of staying there have piled up, Ms. B. and I look forward to moving on to this next stage of life, however long it lasts. I’m not that young, and, well, even at the best of times, you never know how things are gonna shake out.

So, there it is. Huzzah. Brugger and I still have many friends in, and solid ties to, NC’s Triad, so it’s not like we’re going to be strangers to the area. Just to the former Casa di Rodan, I reckon.

It’s out with the old and in with the new (or older with a facelift, as it were). Onward and upward, and all that. Or wherever life sees fit to lead us.

Ground Zero