Around 1 this morning, Larry and I were startled awake by a loud buzzing. My first thought was that it was a fire alarm, maybe. I staggered to the door, opened it and found that the sound was coming from inside our room, from a large vent just inside the door. I jiggled the knob on the thermostat and the sound stopped… Finally.
I’m sure most folks would assume that the fan had gotten hung, but where’s the fun in that. I prefer to think of it as one of our inn’s resident ghosts having a little fun with us. (No, I don’t really believe in such things, but it’s a much better story than a sticky fan.)
Like yesterday, on our tour of the city, our guide told us that Spanish Moss avoids squares with a connection to General Greene because he detested the stuff after having slept in a chigger-filled nest of it one night. He told his wife to keep the moss off his grave, and apparently her spirit still does.
Scientists will tell you it’s because the squares are shielded by large buildings that block the airborne plant from reaching the square. Again, where the fun in that?!
Truth may be stranger than fiction but a little fiction’s more fun.