How Fast Can A 10 Ft Jon Boat Go With A 7.5

X-Files

Ghosts in my house? And why not rats or cockroaches as we're at it! Still, we came something a little weird three years ago. "Chelou" as the teens say. I'm atheist in an atheist, unbeliever limit, quite rational not to say at every turn septic fields, with this history, I had the doubt!

whole story revolves around an old cupboard. It was flanked on the first floor of an old village house that I bought two years ago. The kind of love that little place, with exposed beams, old stones, creaky floors, exposed timbers rotten and noisy. In the homes of generations of people were born there, lived there, had died.

This cupboard therefore, not as old as the house but almost sat on the first floor of two rooms. It was built in the walls. It was the work of a carpenter who had certainly responded to the command of a former owner. Large and large wooden doors stood up to the ceiling. All were equipped with a lock on the old sliding, rusty and mostly equipped with a trigger. There were six doors in total, three lower and three cabinet level. One of them, the lower level, no longer opens.

It is annoying that a closet door does not open. It always manages time through those open but it eventually became annoying. So one day, commissioned by my sweet that no longer tolerated this defect, I start to repair. Armed with a large screwdriver and a hammer, I rush into the cabinet and I slap on the seal, more seized than other locks. This is enough to slide to unlock the system. Inside the trigger I guess an old stubborn spring and certainly crashed. I then gently tap a little harder and at the end, as per .... lock does not move, I go with a good heart. But nothing, it does not, it stuck, I just might break so I quit. I then try to turn the four screws holding the damn lock, but they are so old that their rusty head fall to pieces when I force with my screwdriver.

No, really, it's not worth it. The door will remain locked, we will say. My reputation is handyman Sunday denied this and failed miserably to me is the sarcasm of my girlfriend.

And we forget for months that damned closet door ...

One morning I got up, I descend the stairs slowly, a little "radar" and I found my girl, also standing, as if frozen in front of our wooden cupboard. A door is open, one. One whose lock rotten, rotten to the screws, I had finally refused access. It is open to ten centimeters, and we see a little of all the nonsense that accumulates in closets. It is open ... We do not believe our eyes. Not only loosens the lock seems, but the trigger was more remote and the door opened into the night.

Conclusion of my dear and loving "home is ambruxée ! is Catalan, it means "bewitched."

I do not believe, but I did not find an explanation that really takes the road.