How to Make a Ghost Get Gone.

Numerous people have taken great pains to point out to us that the farmhouse is probably haunted. If you're a house, and you're still standing after 150 years, I guess it would be reasonable to assume that you might harbor a spirit or two, knocking about in the cupboards or rattling the china cabinet from time to time. The standard ghost, given that this house is located in Virginia, is generally one of the Civil War variety (or, as my southern friend once took pains to correct me "the War of Northern Aggression"). Our house does indeed, have a war story, entailing a small, brief and ugly skirmish which resulted in one of the local sons being mortally wounded. Local legend has it that he wanders our property to this day. Local legend does NOT mention this ghost's particular disposition - angry, sad, vengeful, remorseful or disappointed. I'd like to think he's just a melancholy specter, and fairly benign,to boot. We've never had any indication otherwise, and I'd like to think the passing of time has mellowed him somewhat on the whole north/south issue.

But we also know that the previous owner - how shall we say? - "passed away" on the property, and if there is a crazy-assed, unhappy apparition floating around, it would be our charmingly nicknamed "Uncle Larry". Uncle Larry left a long and illustrious paper trail of his life behind for us to follow, despite the fact that oftentimes, it was a case of Too Much Information. And it is with Uncle Larry in mind that I often walk inside the farmhouse and wonder how the hell he managed to live there. I imagine Larry's fatalistic attachment to the house might very well have followed him over to the other side, if these things are at all possible, and have worried that he might, well, "hang around" if the opportunity presented itself.

But you know, as of today, I don't think he'd recognize the place. Why? We are tearing down the precious interior walls. We are embarking upon a MAJOR reworking of the upstairs interior that will in NO WAY resemble the house of old. And while part of me is admittedly a little sick about smashing history up into little pieces and pitching it (literally) out the window, another part of me is so exited to make this house into a livable, functioning, workable and wonderful HOME. For my family. And I think maybe Uncle Larry can go away now, because it's not his any longer, it's the start of the house's new chapter, and really? I promise I'll take good care of it.