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 Okay…the coolest thing just happened.
I found my keys.
Okay…so that doesn’t sound so cool by itself. Let me tell you HOW I found them.
We first noticed my keys where not in their normal “throw your keys here” places Christmas Eve. We didn’t give it a lot of thought as I am really, really bad about laying things down where things do not belong.
Christmas day, they were still missing, but we didn’t bother looking for them. We had things to do, places to go, and people to see. My wife has a set of house keys and my car key is on its own ring (one of those big black jobs with the buttons that practically let you do everything short of setting the radio stations). Problem postponed.
Monday my fat butt barely made it out of my recliner. My keys were one of the last things on my mind…technically everything but mindlessly watching television was pretty much tied for the position of the last thing on my mind that day.
Tuesday morning time to go work arrives, so we do the customary scramble about the house to look at the usual suspected array of pockets, end tables, night stands, and most of the flat surfaces in our kitchen (We enter our house through the kitchen so they often get dropped there…I am pretty sure the refrigerator is the only place in the room that I have never put them at one time or another.)
The wife was irritated, but she has a set of keys to my truck and to our business. We committed to an in-depth search that night.
Tuesday night’s search turned up nothing. I went through clothes. She followed me. I dug through stuff on tables. She dug through those tables behind me. We expanded the search area to include rooms where I didn’t even remember going, let alone emptying my pockets. We did not find my keys.
It should be pointed out that now I am beginning to fear that I have lost them somewhere on the farm. I checked cattle on my ATV Saturday and probably drove a couple of miles through grass and mud. The wife has progressed from irritated (her usual state of being with me) to agitated.
So today, I left work early with the intention of doing an even more thorough search of the house (the next step would be to begin moving furniture and then tearing out drywall).
I decided to practice what I preach…or practice what I practice…just differently…and pull out my trusty dowsing rods.
I have NEVER used the rods for anything but spirit communication and pregnancy testing mares. I actually make it a point to not use any of my ghost hunting equipment in the house.
I live in an old two-story farmhouse. If it is haunted they are quiet. I don’t bother them and they don’t bother me. I sleep GOOD.
I actually do not think it is haunted because as far as I know, no one has ever died here. It has a lot of steps and stairs so when the occupants get old they move to ranch style houses long before death becomes an real issue.
Anyhow, I stood in the kitchen and concentrated on my keys. I asked the rods to cross if they were outside.
No movement.
I then asked if they were in the house. The rods slowly moved to the left. I walked to that side of the room and asked again. The rods shifted to my right towards the back porch.
Now we (thought we) had thoroughly searched the porch. It is our mudroom and where I would have shed my winter attire after checking on the cows. I held the rods over the pile of coveralls and coats that we had both searched several times.
They crossed.
I picked up my coveralls, reached in the same pocket that I am sure I had already checked, and pulled out my keys.
First point: I am now not just a dowser. I am now a devoted dowser and quite possibly may start calling myself a “gifted” dowser.
Second point: No, I still do not think the house is haunted and no mischievous spirit hid my keys.
But I do think that I really suck at going through pockets.
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