EbroRose April 13th, 2009
Ghosts in the finca and not of Christmas past dear Charles, but oh my Dickens what is going on here!
Living the rustic life in southern Catalonia it is not unusual to loose our electric power during electrical thunderstorms and high winds off Mont Caro. During the summer when all the neighbours and their families move out of cosy apartments and head for their finca and cool mountain breezes, for three months at summer and there is a huge overload on the system.
But I am not one who believes in the para-normal, but strange happenings are occurring here. One is lights on and the other is power off…
Yet, we continually wake up to find the Utility room light being switched on.
At first, I used to jump out of bed thinking my “ConfusedMother.com” (as we endearingly refer to the lady of 83 years young) as going on her walk-abouts in the middle of the night.
No, not her. She is snoring away tucked up in her bed.
Him indoors is still in bed too. The dogs are following me around and not growling. So I am calm that we have no intruders. So who has switched the light on. I turn it off and head for bed as my bare feet are now freezing from the cold tiles.
Blow me down, if I don’t get up in the morning and the light is back on again!
This has bugged me for nigh on two months through the winter months and it is now wearing a bit thin.
I am busy with other writings at the moment and can’ t sleep. I keep a duvet on the couch at night and if the writing splurge takes over I just switch on the faithful friendly computer and churn away until the stream runs dry. If it is really a cold night the other half may go to bed earlier and I get under the duvet and prop myself up and scribble away in a notebook.
This is where I was beavouring away around 3:00am one morning and the utility room light went on. I fell over the dog, knocked over my sixth steaming mug of hot chocolate and dashed to catch the culprit. There sat on the top row of shelving was Harry. Our darling Mr. H and I looked at him in amazement. Not only had he turned the light on, he had turned around and his ginger paw was trying to switch it off.
“Harry! It is you then.” I then made the big mistake, with hindsight, of feeding him. So you can imagine he continues to do this as his “Hello Mum, I am home call – feed me!”
So we try to ignore this.
The other incident occurred half way through a wintry meal on a dark winter, moonless and starless night. The power just went off.
I went off in the dark to find the battery emergency lights. The first one the batteries had died.
“Typical, just typical . I told you they needed replacing.”
“Calm down, don’t yell at me I will find the other one”.
The dogs are excited as they know I have to go out of the gate and walk down the lane to our electric box at the far corner of our spare piece of olive grove. The main switch just won’t stay in an up position. The valley looks dark so it must be everyone is in the same boat. We trudge back through all the potholes filled with recent rainwater. I am not a happy bunny.
Our fuses are the wrong way around. So the house circuit breaker doesn’t trip first, the main one goes. I check it anyway. No everything appears to be in the same direction as normal. This doesn’t have a cover on so I can see it quite clearly with the candle light. Oh yes, the batteries went on the second emergency light when I was half way down the lane!
Well I decide best action is to put Mum to bed and we sit up chatting. In the morning we still have no power. I repeat the process. I check all my electric bills. Yes they are all paid. Nothing to do but to ring up the Endesa and they promise to send someone out straight away from Fecsa.
Meanwhile I find the notebook where the last electrician had drawn a diagram of which way the switches should be as not all are in use. I carefully check and double check this and don’t touch anything. They all match the diagram.
When I next venture out Fecsa are busy working on the main box. There are two of them and they are shaking their heads. One very tall Spaniard is now heading towards and he looks so serious. I am panicky. Gosh, this looks expensive. I always imagine doom and gloom.He asks for access to the house. First I have to isolate 3 big hounds.
He then strides forth to find the Circuit breaker and starts blindly fiddling about with the directional pattern of the fuse box. Bearing in mind we have not touched it. I dare not anyway as we are awaiting a replacement one anyway.
We have power on!
I show him the diagram and explain. He remarks , “He is an artist this man- not an electrician.” Off they go.
Job solved we thought.
Not So! A few days later we have the same repeat pattern, in the middle of “Coronation Street”. I rectify the switches and the evening passes pleasantly.
The circuit breaker is in a spare bedroom only used when lads are home on leave. So how did the switch go off again? No, Mr. H is out on the prowl, so it is not him.
One dull mornng I have the passage light on and am mopping the floor tiles when lights go off again. I pop my head into the bedroom.
Caught them! Not one but two of the other cats (Smokey and Penny) are using the switches as a step up onto the top of the wardrobe.
These cats will be the death of me! To think we have suffered nights on end with no telly and no computer activities so the cats can get a step up onto the top cupboard.
But one mystery remains unsolved. For years thè culprit switch has been in the opposite direction for us to have power. So who switched it over? A time to pause for thoughts or is it paws for thought…
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