This was a busy weekend, y’all. I loaded up the pups and drove to NC. We were going to attend a fundraising event for The Captain Joseph House Foundation, but since that wasn’t until Sunday, I decided to slip in a first date on Saturday. Apparently this first date was over a year in the making, too, but I didn’t remember that until my date told me so.
On Saturday morning, I went to breakfast with two of my friends at a little place called Marvin’s Fresh Farmhouse or Farmhouse Fresh or something about freshness and farming named after a bloke named Marvin. It’s a great little local joint in Mount Pleasant, where they source all their food from local farmers in the state. Be warned; however, as the menu is deceptive. I ordered a two-egg omelette and it wound up being twice the size of my head. I think they might use ostrich eggs because it was way more omelette than I ever get out of two eggs. Because of this, I went ahead and ordered a side of bacon (actually, I would have done that anyway), and an order of waffles with strawberries and whipped cream.
That picture doesn’t even do it justice. Those plates were huge. Oh my goodness, but it was delicious. Until I had about three-quarters of a waffle to go. And that’s when the peer pressure started [by peer pressure, I mean totally self-induced]. I looked at the plate and thought about how much I wanted to just get up and walk away, but I’m no quitter. So I kept going.
I got up and walked around a bit. I did trunk twists. I shook my legs (to move the food into the hollow portion). And I kept going. And going. And going. And going.
It would not have even fazed me if I’d run my 10 miles that morning. But I didn’t. And so it did. It might have been one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done. But I couldn’t stop myself; indeed, I encouraged myself. I didn’t even get a free t-shirt at the end. Dumb.
Fast forward a couple of hours and I was grazing at a dog social trying to finalize plans with my date that evening. It wasn’t going well. He wound up being about three hours late for our date, but at least he showed up (not like the would-be first date who completely stood me up… twice).
And this first date is one for the books, so I’m really glad he did. Remember that time I toured the haunted clinic and vowed I’d come back and stay the night? I did. With my first date. And my dogs. And a paranormal investigator and his date. It was epic.
Of course, I didn’t remember to bring my camera, so I have no pictures from that night (all the pictures are from the first visit). I planned to exchange information with the paranormal investigator and get a few of his pictures, but he and his date left around 0500, and I was sound asleep by then. Oops. He’d brought all kinds of equipment with him: audio recorders, thermometers, EMF detectors, and some kind of laser grid set-up that I stared at, mesmerized, for hours.
I was most interested to watch Marty and Joe react that night. Joe didn’t. He pretty well followed me around and slept at my feet. Marty was far more engaged.
When he first walked into the house, Marty went straight into the exam room where they used to administer shots, and immediately started goofing around, play bowing, and being silly with nothing that I could see. He came bounding out and went running up the stairs, checking out all the rooms.
Outside, Marty began pursuing what I thought might be a rabbit or something. He chased whatever it was around the pecan tree in the front yard and back toward where we were standing, but when he came around, none of us could see anything. He could, though, because he kept right on pursuing for a bit longer before he gave up.
In the basement, Marty vacillated between trying to climb to the top of the stairs to whine at the door to leave, and looking around the room with fascination. He didn’t like Majesty’s flashlight on the stairs, though.
Upstairs, he spent most of his time in Phillip’s room (the surgery), and growled a little at nothing. Dogs were barking outside, but it wasn’t Marty’s typical “dogs are barking outside” reaction… which is far more vocal and energetic and which he did the next morning. This was just a low growl, but it’s entirely possible it was just the dogs that set him off.
The ghosts were quite active; moreso than during the first visit. In the basement we had Majesty, Jimmy, Dr. Trivette, and two ladies (whose names escape me right now); upstairs was David, Phillip, Bill, and Vicky. Majesty played ball with me a couple of times, and Vicky touched my hand. My date might have started a fight between Phillip and Vicky because Vicky wanted him to spend the night in her room. She touched his hand, too.
We watched the original 1979 version of The Amityville Horror [on VHS no less]; although, truth be told, my date and I both slept through most of it. I must have been tired because I slept like the dead that night. And not like the dead who call the Trivette Clinic home. Like the dead that don’t stick around to haunt the living.
The next morning, everyone left us. The hosts, the paranormal investigator and his date, and even the ghosts, it seemed. We hung around for a while chatting about life before we both had to get on the road. I would definitely go on a second date with this one, too. I might have to write a follow-on blog… 15 Second Dates?
It was a great night, and a really fun first date. I highly recommend going to see Doug and Tim at the Trivette Clinic if you are ever in NC. It’s well worth the trip. They tell great stories, and are fantastic hosts (even if they do leave you alone in a haunted house).