Harrigan's Back!

Mother Dragon

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You may remember our resident poltergeist, Harrigan, whose shenanigans are legendary. He must’ve taken a vacation, because things have been relatively peaceful for a while. However, he’s back and working to catch up on his mischief. For a review of his doings just search of Harrigan. He has quite a dossier.

In no particular order are some of his latest doings.

The other night I woke up dripping with sweat, badly overheated. I sleep with the electric blanket on the bed for the weight, plus, because of my anemia, I get cold easily. However, this is an ultra-powerful blanket that can bake a pizza when set on high. I checked the room temperature and it was right. Then I felt the blanket, which was glowing. Huh? I rolled over and looked at the control. It was set on “Preheat” which means it runs at blast furnace heat. The control sits over on the night stand, facing away from the bed. It sits vertically, with the controls on the vertical face, so one of the cats couldn’t have stepped on it. I turned it off and crawled out from under it until it cooled. Harrigan sat drinking some cold tea.

Robert doesn’t like change loose in his pocket, so he uses one of those small plastic oval “squeeze” change purses. A couple of years ago, he lost one. We searched everywhere - in the car, on and under the bed, in his recliner, in the kitchen, under the litter pan, in the bathtub, all without finding it. I ordered a dozen of them online because they are hard to find and life went on. A few weeks ago, Robert was walking Darwin in the back yard. They were walking along the fence line when something caught Robert’s eye. He bent over to see what it was. It was the missing black change purse. He knew it was the same one because he’d stashed some dollar coins in it to surprise me with. Robert doesn’t wear his regular clothes when he goes into the back yard. He has on athletic shorts and all that is in the pocket is his iPhone. He’s only been walking the fence line with Darwin about 9 months, and they don’t always go that way. So how did the coin purse get there? Harrigan twirled his mustache and looked mysterious.

A few weeks ago one of the fluorescent lights over the sink went out. No big deal. Get a new one and put it in, give it a twist and you’re back in business. He got the right bulb at Lowe’s and removed the old one. He popped the new one in - well, he thought that’s what would happen. That bulb will not go into the fixture no matter how he tried it. Well, it must be wrong somehow. Let’s put the old one back in. Harrigan was sitting at the table, pretending to read a book. Robert put one end of the old bulb into place. Then he tried to put the other one in. Now it would not fit. He tried for over an hour, took a break, and went after it again. He finally gave up. Just to be nasty, Harrigan made one of the main bulbs flicker a few times.

Our lawn timer is attached to one of those super-strength guaranteed for a century hoses. We’ve had it hooked up for about three years. About three weeks ago, our next door neighbor knocked at the door to report there was a geyser by the faucet on his side. He’d turned the water off for us. Robert figured it was a little puncture he could fix with some of that self-cling super-tape. Harrigan lay in his lawn chair, sipping his margarita, and sighed contentedly. Robert turned the water on to see where the leak was. Old Faithful erupted right in his face. Harrigan slapped his knee as Robert, sputtering and drenched, tried to find the faucet handle through water-covered glasses. He finally found the handle and shut the fountain off as Harrigan scowled. This time Robert was more prudent. He followed the hose, looking carefully for a little hole. He’d just about completed his search when he found the not-so-little leak. The hose was split about six inches along its length. Harrigan used the tip of his switchblade to clean his fingernails. As Robert examined the gash, it opened another eight inches. The water that hadn’t drained from it when Robert shut the faucet off dribbled onto Robert’s shoes. Harrigan mopped the sweat from his face with a fluffy towel. I’m sure Harrigan knew we didn’t keep the receipt for the hose, so the warranty was no good. I’m sure Harrigan also knew it’s virtually impossible to find a 25’ heavy-duty hose any more. He giggled when we paid a pretty penny for a 50’ one.

We have two small first aid kits for minor wounds. They have various sizes of Band-Aids, some gauze, and a tube of antibiotic ointment in them. The boxes are bright red so they’re easy to spot. The one in the downstairs bathroom is kept on top of the mini-fridge. The one for the kitchen is kept prominently on a shelf in the breakfast area. Robert was washing some knives and knicked his finger just enough for it to bleed copiously. I guess Harrigan must have needed first aid at some time because the kit wasn’t where it was supposed to be. In fact, it wasn’t anywhere we looked. It didn’t fall off the shelf. It didn’t fall behind the shelves. It wasn’t on another shelf. It wasn’t the bathroom with its twin. Robert stopped to get a Band-Aid from the kit in the bathroom. Harrigan turned away at the sight of blood. We finally found the kit the other day. It was in the garage, over the washing machine, turned on edge as it sat with the detergent and other cleaning products. Harrigan congratulated himself on his cleverness.

Tonight I was sitting at the table. I have a pill I need to take with food, so I usually take it while I’m eating or just after. I got the little pill out of the container and promptly dropped it. I searched all over the floor, in the rug, on the table, all over the floor again, and couldn’t find the doggone thing. Harrigan watched with delight. I finally took another one. About an hour later the wayward pill fell onto the table from above. When you drop things they go down, not up. How could it have fallen from the ceiling? Harrigan gave a very self-satisfied smirk and vanished.

I can hardly wait for what’s next - but I sure would like to, and for a long time.
 

Winchester

In the kitchen with my cookies
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I just love reading about Harrigan. He's an absolute hoot, the way he grins and cackles and scowls. I'd love to see him drinking a margarita. I love that he has a mustache. You have the greatest poltergeist in the world!

Oh, I know his antics aren't funny and you'd rather do without them. But think about how he keeps your life so very interesting! :flail:And, well, face it; if you're going to have a poltergeist, at least you've got one with personality!
 
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