I need a young priest and an old priest. And maybe some Ghostbusters.

I joke a lot about religion. Maybe too much. And, um,  I think someone might have noticed.


If there’s one thing I’m afraid of, it’s the things we can’t see. Like germs. And ghosts. And the real agendas of Tea Party Republicans. I know it’s unreasonable, but I just can’t help myself. It’s probably my Catholic upbringing or–very possibly–the fact that I watched the Exorcist as a very young child. I know there’s evil out there. And it scares the living shit out of me.

Thankfully, I’ve found a man who is just as, ahem,  aware of the other side as I am. Right now, we’re in the very first stages of buying our first home together. That alone is terrifying. But even more terrifying is the fact that all the houses in our price range are old. Some of the coolest ones are right across from an antebellum cemetery, which means these houses have a history. Well, that and occupants who probably weren’t willing to move out since the Grant presidency.

We’ve talked ad nauseum about moving. Next to our son’s bodily functions, it’s the most common subject brought up while we’re watching TV at night. All those conversations sound like this:

Chelsie: Before we even move our shit in, I’m calling my mother to see if we can borrow her priest.

Red: You can’t borrow a priest like you borrow a pair of pants. He’s a person.

Chelsie: Whatever. I’m going to have him come over wearing his vestments and he’s going to bless the house with my special holy water.

Red: Special holy water? You have special holy water?

Chelsie: Um, yeah. I got it in Rome and the Pope blessed it. The good one. Not the one we’ve got now who looks like Darth Sidious.

Red: –.

Chelsie: Hey. This is who you’re marrying. Gedoverit.


Call me superstitious. Call me crazy. I don’t care. Red gets it. Right after we sign on the dotted line at closing, we’re going straight over to break the house in burn sage. I’m still not quite sure how one accomplishes that, but I’ve got some neo-hippie friends who live about two hours north of us who I’m sure will be more than happy to help us chase away the dark-and-creepies.

But for now, we’re living in the same house we’ve been in for the last two years. We didn’t do a cleansing before moving in–mostly because we were new parents and too sleep deprived to even care–and now I’m kinda regretting it.

Last night, Red and were laying in bed watching the finale of the Mildred Pierce miniseries on HBO. (It’s not worth your time, beeteedub.) At some point during the show, something crashed to the ground in the general vicinity of the kitchen. After Red peeled me off the ceiling, he flipped on the lights and went to investigate. (I, of course, hid under the covers the whole time. Because if I can’t see whatever is out there, it can’t see me. Simple logic, people.)

“Chels,” he said. “Come here. You’ve got to see this.”

Fighting the urge to swaddle my head in a protective veil of blankets, I tiptoed into the kitchen. “Did you buy a new magnet to hang on the refrigerator?” Red held up a tiny picture frame that held a portrait of Boo. “This was in the middle of the floor.” He pointed to a spot in the middle of the living room, far from any surface it could have fallen off of.

My heart jumped into my throat. I stared at the tiny golden frame, and then at the spot on the floor. “I’ve never seen that thing before in my life.”

Red just looked at me. “That’s odd.”

“No, really. I didn’t buy that. Your mom may have given put it in Boo’s diaper bag at some point, but I’ve never seen it before, much less put it up on the fridge.”

Red shrugged. “Meh. That’s weird.”

“Fuck that noise,” I said. “I’m buying some sage TOMORROW.”

One problem. Where can I buy sage?

About Chelsie

Mommy. Beauty product whore. Plastic lawn flamingo enthusiast. Nosy neighbor. One day novelist.
This entry was posted in Boo, Family, Nerdness, No one else will think this is funny, Only Vaguely Offensive, Red, The Month of Blogging Dangerously, Weirdness and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

20 Responses to I need a young priest and an old priest. And maybe some Ghostbusters.

  1. Jean C. says:

    Ok, that’s freaking creepy. Blame in on Darth Popius. He must have teleported it into your house to freak you out. BTW- Sage is sold in the spice aisle of grocery stores…get the full leaf bottle. 🙂

    • Chelsie says:

      Oh, I’ve got a lock on a hippy-dippy store in my college town that sells bundles of sage–ready made!–for just such an occasion. I’m going to stock up this weekend. Dear internet: Join us for a cleansing on Monday?

      • Michelle says:

        I’ll so be there.

        And just FYI: Sage also tastes good in sausage gravy.

        Good luck on the house hunt!

        • Chelsie says:

          Um… so you caught the neo-hippy reference, eh? (Neo-hippies are the good kind of hippies, by the way.) As soon as we find a house, you and your lovely roomies have an instant invitation to come help us with a cleansing. Snacks and liquor will be provided 🙂

  2. Nancy says:

    Sage smells gross burning, in my oh-so-humble opinion.

    We’ve got ghosts! My 13 year old named them, which went really well with them.

    When I was living in a place with a lot of bad vibes, I took a broom and envisioned myself just sweeping out the bad vibes. The place felt tons lighter once I was done. It’s all about the intent.

    • Chelsie says:

      I’m afraid I’m going to stink up the house with the sage, so I might burn it with the windows open. That way the bad spirits will be able to make a hasty exit and my furniture won’t smell like ass for the next ten years.

  3. in my country ammonia does the trick…… my grandma boils water and pours the ammonia in it and then throws some of the hot water on all the doors and windows of the house…. and then burns incense….. the ammonia smells terrificly horrible but the incense smells a little better…

  4. Sandy says:

    On the sage front, there are different types of this herb that are used for different purposes. I would not recommend burning the type used in cooking. You’re neo-hippie friends can give you the down-low on this.

    We live on an Indian Reservation and have learned a great deal about the use of sage for spiritual cleansing (also known as smudging). Actually, I burn it quite often. My kids say it smells like pot. I have always wondered how they would know that…

    Good luck!

    • Chelsie says:

      I’m going to a health food store this weekend to buy smudging sticks (or whatever they’re called). I’m pretty sure with that and the powers of Google, Twitter, and my friends, this is gonna be over quickly.

  5. patty p says:

    I hate that I believe this crap, and that I just read Amityville Horror. Again. Why do I do this to myself?

  6. Fred Miller says:

    I wasn’t used to living with dogs, so the first time my girlfriend’s dog woke me in the night by wagging it’s tail against the floor, I was so scared I almost shit two more dogs.

    I was almost a priest once, and I lived in a monastery for a short time. So I do all our exorcisms.

  7. L.A.C.E. says:

    I believe. I have seen things that no one wants to see. I really should post the pic of the ghost boy hugging me. A real picture and no it wasn’t my home. Anyhoo, I’m Christian and we bless our home by making sure all kids and animals are not in the home. Seeing as my kids are animals I kill two birds with one stone just by removing the four of them. We use oil and say “In The Name of Jesus” leave. and dip my finger in the oil and do a sign of the cross above the window or doorway. Always work from top to bottom, basement second. The front door last, shooing the nasty buggers out. Since I do see and sense “them”, there are many homes we turned down during our house hunt. My hubby and real estate agent though I was nuts. I’m sorry but some old, dead angry fart staring at me even before I buy the house isn’t going to make me want to hand over my money.

    Good luck with which ever route you choose.

  8. Pingback: I do believe in spooks! I do, I do, I do! | Three Ring Mom

  9. Pingback: Linkation Without Representation (Happy Tax Day!) « ad hoc MOM

  10. Pingback: It can’t all be rainbows and unicorn farts. | Three Ring Mom

  11. Sharp says:

    you’re funny :’)

  12. You know, in India, which is my homeland, a person moves into a new home only after it is blessed. Whether in Hinduism or in Christianity, we have an elaborate blessing ceremony for the house. In Christianity (I am a Catholic, by the way), the priest comes in, prays and douses holy water in every room. Only after this ritual is complete does the family move in.
    In Hinduism, there are pujas (religious ceremonies with a pyre and a priest chanting mantras) conducted which are meant to appease every living thing that had to be sacrificed to construct the house – i.e., every tree, creatures that were uprooted from their homes etc.
    Seeing that you are a Christian, maybe you should get the house blessed . Atleast for your peace of mind.

  13. I’m so glad I caught your blog on FP’d. COngrats BTW. I also “sense” them, we had an old man that would watch me sleep in our old house. I lived in the basement which made things worse. From what I assume he was the original owner. Anyhoo, most of the time if you ask nicely for them to go away and state that this is your home now and that you will be taking good care of it…they’ll go away peacefully. That has been my experience anyway. Hope you get rid of whatever it is.

    Editor’s note: Thanks for stopping by! Please read the Comment Policy before you reply. Your link has been deleted because it is not relevant to the post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s