Flying Hats

On Wednesday, September 29, 2004, Mark had to leave the tearoom to run some errands. With keys in hand, he was out the door before 9:30 am. I think he was excited to be doing something other than baking and bookwork. Luckily the tearoom was quiet so I managed to get all of the kitchen prep done, dishes washed and even the baking was nearly finished before people started trickling in. I was very happy and excited to see my Mom, my sister and her friend, Christine arrive. Other customers came and went as we continued slowly through lunch and our visit.

I was thankful for the quiet spell as I rarely had the opportunity to sit and have a laugh with my mom and my sister during the warmer months. Christine was busy making yummy noises as she finished up her creamy pumpkin soup. Casually she asked, Could I have the recipe for this soup? It is to die for!

I laughed through a mouthful of scone avoiding the question. We made a point at the tearoom not to give out our recipes.

We had drained our first pot of tea and after discussing it briefly, we decided on another. I gathered up the plates while we chatted about the scones we had just consumed. Christine took the opportunity to inquire again about the soup recipe. I spun giggling toward the kitchen just in time to see two hats gently lift off their resting place; an old crate painted green with leaves, and fall together on the floor blocking my path. This not only silenced my giggling but put a stop to Christine's' inquiry.

I guess that's a no? she concluded.

Did anyone else see that? I asked.

Christine had the same look on her face that I had on mine. She was pale with mingled amusement and more than a touch of curiosity. She nodded positively with her mouth agape. My sister indicated that she missed seeing it but did hear the hats hit the floor. My mother's back was to the hats so she didn't see anything.

What's that smell? She said, twisting around in her chair to look at me standing in the small, arched opening between the Roman Garden Room and the gift shop. It smells like flowers.

With dishes still in hand, I walked over to her.

It's Jasmine. I reported,It smells just like the jasmine tea I have in the back.

Well I don't smell anything. my sister started and then suddenly she could smell it and then so did Christine. It was if someone smelling of jasmine had walked around the table and then disappeared. We must have looked a sight, sniffing about like a litter of puppies in search of something familiar but the whimsical scent of jasmine was gone from the room.

What happened? my mom asked looking at me now with an odd smile on her face.

What happened? I actually just saw the hats go up in the air, slowly turn upside down and land in the middle of the doorway! I said while looking down at the two dress-up hats on the floor. This was exciting! I quickly went to the back, placed the dishes into the wash bin and made more tea. We needed to talk about this event.

When I got back with a fresh pot of tea, Christine was saying that something strange happened to her last time she was at the tearoom. She thought I had been standing in the same little archway but at a second glance, she noticed that the figure was a man wearing a black suit and then he disappeared. My youngest daughter, Michelle, used to see a man who wore a black suit and had a top hat. We decided that he was probably Mary's husband, Thomas French Pearce. In retrospect, it could have also been Mary's Dad, William Walker Hogg. I had no idea what either of them looked like to say for sure.

This set the mood for the rest of the day. I began sharing all the experiences our family had in the time that we had been in the house. My daughter had also seen a young girl in the house who walked about in an old fashioned white nightgown. I had seen this girl as well and noticed that she smelled of flowers. One day; late in the afternoon, I was moving things around in the gift shop and noticed a strong floral scent. I was sure I had smelled it before and went to the back room where I kept the tea jars. I began opening them to smell each one. It was not the rose petals and certainly not the lavender. Finally I discovered it smelled like Jasmine Green Tea. Was this the same girl who was having fun with the dress-up hats? We all decided that she must be. From then on we called her Jasmine. I couldn't wait to tell the kids when they got home from school.

Waiting wasn't long. The kids came bursting through the door with excitement of their own to share. As usual, all of us were talking at once. The kids decided that I could go first. I didn't waste another minute and blurted out the news of the flying hats. The eyes of all three kids bugged out of their heads.

Oh my gosh, mom, what time did this happen?

I paused considering the question.

That's an odd first question to be asked simultaneously, I said to my enquiring minds. My son didn't look all that impressed. He appeared to be unnerved and a little pale. I assured him that it was okay and that we had nice ghosts in the house. It was fun and gave us something to talk about (mind his first encounter with Mary didn't seem all that fun).

Michelle produced the top part of her forearm. She had written in bold blue ink the numbers 241. When I saw the numbers it felt like it was a time.

Michelle explained that she had been on the school bus staring out the window at the grass while waiting for the other kids to board. She explained that the number appeared to be written there for a moment and then it disappeared. She shared the vision with her older sister, Cassie, when she got on the bus. Cassie told her to write it down because it might mean something. I wasn't sure exactly what time the excitement had started but I knew it was between 2:30 and 2:45. I made a quick call to my mother and she agreed with my time estimate. That confirmed, our experiences must have happened around the same time.

Exciting isn't it? Well, it isn't over yet.

Now we were all excited and even my son was considering the possibilities of what had happened. I lead all three kids into the tearoom and gave them a play by play of the action. We tried to figure out how the hats could have moved like that. No matter what we tried we could not get the hats to land far enough away from their perch on top of the green crate. Not even an outright push made them fly up in the air and land in the centre of the path. I had to grasp the hats to get the same results. There was no way the hats could have done this by themselves. There was no draft in the room or people passing by. The hats flew seemingly all by themselves.

We went to the kitchen buzzing with chatter and hungry stomachs. Cassie was first to grab a snack and head up to her room. Ian was not far behind her with some waffles and a drink. He was seeking the comforts of the futon and the television. Michelle (who had to wait her turn to use the toaster) was still talking about the possibilities of a visit from a ghost. Only she and I had ever seen Jasmine before. It was fun to discuss some of the other events and sightings while she buttered her waffles. She mentioned that Jasmine's hair was always long, brown and straight. Sometimes it was wet and other times dry. She wore an old fashioned white nightgown and often stood by Michelle's bed in the middle of the night. She found this a little unnerving and put her waffles down and came over to stand beside me while she shared her story. Our conversation was suddenly interrupted as the knife she had been using hit the floor.

It had landed in the middle of the kitchen and was pointing at the back door. I had been standing at the baking counter putting Devonshire cream into a bag and Michelle had been standing in front of the sink. Neither of us was anywhere near her plate of waffles. More investigation was required!

We took turns flicking, nudging, and pushing the knife from where she had originally placed it. We tried jumping on the floor to make it move. Nothing happened. No matter what we did the knife merely slid onto the counter or flipped onto the floor directly under where the plate was sitting. After nearly an hour of attempting to simulate the situation, we concluded that it had to have been done by a ghost.

Our hearts were pounding hard in our chests when my husband walked in through the kitchen doorway. We explained what happened and went through everything again. Mark tried to knock the knife on the floor and have it land the same way. The results were the same as our earlier attempts. I showed him the hats as well but he was not convinced it was a ghost (not even remotely). He announced that we were being silly and got some cookies and milk and went to go work on his computer. Our biggest skeptic was not to be convinced.

All of this prodding, pushing and attempting to create a breeze had failed to get a similar result. In my mind, it only proved that something or someone did make the hats fly onto the floor between the garden room and the dining room. The same went for the knife that fell into the centre of the kitchen floor. How does one explain the sudden smell of flowers? Even on a windy day, it was difficult to get a cross-breeze through our big old house. That day the doors and windows had been closed. I am certain that we did experience a visit from the spirit world. I don't know what it would take for my husband to believe what made these things happen. Later I asked him what it would take to make him believe.

How come nothing happens when I'm around?

I told him that things do happen when he is around but he doesn't acknowledge them. There are random thumps in the night, footsteps, and everyone has seen the grey cat – except for him. I decided that he would have to come face to face with a ghost and shake their hands before he would accept their presence. My mom had always been a non-believer but did admit to enjoying a good ghost story. Her opinion changed after that day in September. I wonder if my husband will ever have his chance to be convinced?