I think we have a poltergeist.
Well, I'm not entirely convinced. But I went out yesterday to get kindling for the fire from the bag in the shed that the previous owners had left. It was full of kindling, but in pieces too long to get in our wood burning stove. I had to break some up to use.
I went out again earlier this evening for more kindling. This time, the same bag was full of the same pieces of wood, but neatly broken into kindling of the right size. So we either have a bizarrely helpful though shy neighbour, or a very helpful and friendly poltergeist. Either is a plus, it seems to me.
Anyway, I was reminded of the genuinely terrifying case of the Amherst poltergeist, also known as the haunting of Esther Cox, who was born in 1860 in Nova Scotia. I read a lot about ghosts when I was small, and this was definitely the scariest true ('true'?) account I came across. It is particularly impressive because of the way the account is backed up by various witnesses incuding the very sober and sensible Dr Carritte.
There's a reasonable summary of what happened here. I still remember reading about in bed at about nine or ten, and being scared witless at how, while the good doctor was attending the teenage Esther at home, the words 'Esther Cox you are mine to kill' were, as he watched, scratched by an invisible hand - with a terrible scraping sound - onto the wall above her bed...
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