Bumps in the...Daytime?

I have lived here for around a year and a half at this point. In that entire time, the ceiling fan in the bedroom has been completely non-functional. This is fine, because I normally use a bedside fan anyway. No worries.

Earlier, all three cats were running around the bedroom, looking intently around at nothing I could see, as cats do. We get a lot of mice out here, and the felines are proven hunters. There’s nothing particularly noteworthy about this behavior.

A few minutes ago, I was cleaning out their water fountain, when I heard an odd whine from nearby, accompanied by a whoosh of air. I didn’t think much of it—that is, until I looked up. The ceiling fan, long rendered impotent, was happily whirling about with reckless abandon.

There’s been a lot of weird stuff going on in the last few weeks, such as the feeling of “being watched” (there’s a lot of wildlife, so that’s probably accurate), footsteps crunching through the leaves in the darkened yard (wildlife again?), the cats constantly seeming agitated, and the occasional smell of an old woman’s perfume (um...saucy wildlife?) Old Pagan legends speak of the thinning veil between the realms of the living and the dead during this time of year, and I’ve always been a believer in the unexplained, having experienced such oddities before.

Of course, it all could easily be nothing more than a string of coincidences and well-timed electrical happenstances. That is, in fact, the likeliest explanation. 

But you know me and my imagination. I like to picture an old resident, returned to see her old place once again, and very likely disappointed to find the likes of me and mine living there.

...I hope she likes cats.