15 years ago I bought a two-story, hundred-year-old, log house near Estes Park, Colorado. Right on a great trout stream. Lots of character, etc. Sat on some acreage with good privacy. Everything was right about it, save for the levitating bed.
This could be disconcerting as hell. There were mornings-after when I seriously thought I should design a safety belt to keep me strapped in while I tried to sleep. The bucking and gyrations were so bad it was as though I was flying through some of the worst turbulence I had ever encountered in my extensive international flying.
My love life started to go to hell as no one would actually spend the night in the place. Comments such as 'There's something really spooky about this place' were being heard more and more from hopeful (on my part) sleep-overs.
Then she showed up at the foot of the bed one night about six months after moving in. I say 'she' as it was more of an indistinct faintly luminiscent figure that just seemed female. I decided not to turn on the light as it would destroy my night vision and I still didn't know what I was up against. It was a moonless night and dark as only it can be in the country. I slowly reached over, picked up my .44 Mag, swung it around in the direction of the thing, and observed.
I also decided that, in total darkness, I couldn't exactly make out where my feet were and probably stood a good chance of shotting off a toe, or worse. Besides, it was ludricrous to think one could actually shoot a ghost.
So, I returned the shooter to its place on the night stand. I had a feeling as though 'it' smiled approvingly.
This went on for years. My brother stayed with me one time and got up in the middle of the night, drove to the nearest town of size, checked into a motel, and departed for home three days early. My secretary, who would check on the place every few days when I was overseas, refused to go anywhere near it at night.
Finally, I bought a sailboat, fell in love with sailing, and started living on it on a more or less full-time basis, in San Diego. I was always apprehensive about leaving the Colorado place unattended.
This problem was solved when a good friend became divorced from her husband and needed a temporary place to live while going through the legal proceedings, etc. I volunteered my place, she and her teenage daughter moved in, and like magic, 'it' was no longer around.
I sold the place a few years later and the new owners say everything is perfectly normal.
How boring.
Interesting story. My sister-in-law got married at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park. They say that place is haunted, but I thought the place was charming and alot of fun.