I don’t know, but my sweetie’s kids are only here every other weekend, yet not only in their room but in the WHOLE APARTMENT, including rooms I swear they don’t go in, it’s the same thing.
I was thinking of blaming the cats but I dunno…
Not nearly as mysterious as some in here (I love the idea of electrical outlet safes, BTW!), but at about 9 or 10pm every night, the stairs suddenly creak loudly once or twice. We figure our ghost goes up to bed early.
In college, friends and I rented a house that ate things.
Actually, I think it was the porch. We’d bring in groceries from the car, and somehow they just wouldn’t all be there. Search the car…nope. Not on the porch. Not at the store. This happened often enough that we just gave up looking for things, assuming they would mysteriously show up at year’s end when we all moved out, or that the giant jar of minced garlic would start reeking and identify it’s whereabouts. Nope nope nope nope; no idea wtf happened to all our groceries, but I hope there’s a smelly but happily fed ghost still hanging around to bother the next tenants.
This is a Catholic thing, a blessing associated with the Epiphany, if I’m not mistaken.
Yeah, here you go!
We occasionally have the same monster in our house, except he hides in sheets.
I think that would bug me so much that I would have to find out.
The mystery in our house isn’t as cool as some of these; our kitchen sink is right over the hot water heater in the basement, and for some reason, it is the tap that takes the longest to get hot water coming out of it. The taps that are the length of the house away - hot water almost instantly. I feel a little bad wasting so much water, but you just can’t do dishes with cold water.
(The circuit breakers in our house are clearly labelled - I would like to send out a big psychic “thank you” for whoever went to the time and trouble to do this.)
There are no windows, and no apparent way in. The bathroom is fully accessible to the rest of the basement that I can get to; it was just built across the doorway to the wing’s basement, sealing it off. The forced-air ductwork goes through, as do electrical connections.
Maybe there’s a long-dead guy chained to the wall down there, beside a cask of Amontillado. 
I guess if I really wanted to know someday, I could call the records people at City Hall and pull the original building permits. There might be the original plans on file too. That paperwork might indicate exactly where the original doorway was, and whether there were originally any windows. But for now, it’s kind of fun to have a mystery.
The sock wormhole is otherwise known as the Hozone.
So who are K and M? And why were they only thinking about them in the basement?
Our path isn’t steep at all. There are no sprinklers. The path is poured concrete with embedded large stones and it runs from the porch to the driveway. The path is absolutely not moving. The rock that sits on top of the path is what’s moving.
Edit to add: I have no clue what’s in the soil. I try to avoid things that involve playing in the soil because I have a tendency to kill things growing in the soil. But, since the rock doesn’t come into contact with the soil, I don’t think the composition of the soil is an issue.
I rent an apartment in the downstairs of a formerly-single family home. Occasionally (usually later in the afternoon) I can smell a rather fishy odor just inside the entrance to my bedroom (the bathroom is right next door). I first noticed this about four months after my son’s fire-bellied toad escaped from his cage, and I thought that perhaps the toad had died under my dresser (which is next to the door); but several times I have moved the dresser, taken out all the drawers, removed the clothes, etc. and found nothing.
It’s been over a year, and I would think if it was Hoppy’s remains, I would smell it all the time; besides, he would have been long mummified now anyway and would no longer smell. I can only smell it occasionally, and it’s only in that one spot by the doorway.
Oh, I forgot about the other mystery in our house - how a house that had a smoker living in it got sold as a non-smoking house. I think my project this winter is going to be Kill-zing and painting all surfaces in the house to try and get the smell out. :mad:
A friend had a switch near his front door like that. One day he turned the switch “on” and explored all the outlets on his porch, finding nothing. But he didn’t switch it back to off. His next electric bill had too many zeroes. He discovered that he had some kinda heat grid in the sidewalk for melting ice. And he ran it for the entire month of July.
My parents discovered that the 1928 era house the bought in 1969 had a 15 amp service.
My father set about to upgrade it to 200 amps first thing.
The water from my cold water tap comes out at anywhere from 98 to 110 degrees. It’s not a true mystery, I think that my water supply line must be very close to the surface of the ground, so it heats up from the outside temp. It’s a pita, though, I have to use water dispensed from the fridge to wash salad greens, etc. Tap water would wilt them immediately I have to make a blend of tap water/fridge water to replenish the cats’ bowl.
Thinking back, my house did eat a cell phone. I have no clue where that one is.
Well, it’s Balthazar, C(K)aspar, and Melchior.
Maybe they just really didn’t like Balthazar?
Had a couch that ate remote controls, which would slip between the cushions and into a little hole underneath. One day we upended the couch, carefully slit open the fabric lining underneath, and extracted several spoons, pens, a paperback book, Happy Meal toys, and three remotes. One for our CD player, one for our TV. The third was a complete mystery. We did not own, nor ever did we own, a Sony TV. No idea where it came from or why it was there.
Not in my house, but my grandfather’s: there was a button on the floor and if you knew how to step on it you could summon the servants. Except my grandfather was lower middle class and didn’t have any. (He lived in a neighborhood that was built by the mafia and my father was Jacob Lansky’s paperboy, but I guess gramps didn’t have the right connections.)
Not really a mystery as much as an oddity. When my grandparents moved into a new house, the clothes chute was located on the kitchen floor. Very strange, and ridiculously dangerous if someone would ever leave it open. For how much work it would take to bend down, open the chute and feed everything into it, it would have been easier to just take 15 more steps and launch your dirty clothes down the basement stairs.
There was also a bathroom with no door. It was just sort of in a hallway.
When I was looking at my house, twice I was told it hadn’t been smoked in. The first time I though to myself “Well, your husband was smoking in the (attached) garage when we came to see it” But that’s not a big deal. The second time they said it, we were in the basement and there was an ashtray with cigarette butts in it right next to her. The house really didn’t smell like smoke at all though. I’m guessing he just would just sneak one down there from time to time when she wasn’t looking.
Our house was spotless when we looked at it the first time, and since we had specified a non-smoking house and we couldn’t smell any smoke in this one, we assumed this was indeed a non-smoking house. Imagine our surprise when we closed it up for the first winter here, and I was going nuts trying to figure out what that incredible reek was. I think they must have cleaned it top to bottom to sell it which got the surface smoke smell out, but the baked-in smell came out months later (we have no carpets in the house at all, either, which helped make it smell like a non-smoking house).
I’ll re-paint at least the closets this winter - the closed-up areas are the worst for releasing a toxic cloud of stench when I open the doors.