Chester is absolutely, positively, 110% wanting to go outside. There is a skunk outside. Chester will not be permitted outside tonight. My house is haunted, in case you didn’t know. My ceiling fan will sometimes turn by itself. I thought it was doing it only when the heat or air was blowing, but it’s not turning now, and the heat is blowing. Last night it wasn’t turning, but the chain pulls were moving. Tonight, all is still. I can watch, as I am ensconced in my library chair and have an unobstructed view. It’s weird. And no, I haven’t had windows open to change the air movement one way or another. The only other fan is in my bedroom. There is no explanation, apart from ghosts. So ghosts it is. People like it when I write about them. People like attention. I do, too. I’ve thought all day that I would write one sentence each about ten people and let y’all guess what was written about whom. And then in coming weeks I would elaborate as the mood hit me. #1. A strong redhead who rides a proud red horse, prefers Sauvignon Blanc (but not Kim Crawford), who can mingle with any crowd, anywhere, anytime. #2. A quilter, a baker, but not a candlestick maker, at least not so far as I know. #3. A halfback Yankee who has a penchant for Christmas lights, Halloween decorations, and is an advocate for firemen, dispatchers…