In the house of 26 windows


Why yes, I’ve taken up house keeping in your walls and I’m quite comfortable. Thanks for asking.



I live in a house with twenty-six windows.

I am a Vampire.

My home is on a hill so that creates a nice cool space under the house where we keep wine, camping gear, yard tools, and boat stuff, among other things. There are no coffins under there. There are no coffins anywhere in my home.

Windows let in the light. Windows also let in the night. They let us watch rare lightning storms. They let in the moonlight. Windows let me view the fog without the dampness.

Wait…I was just going to muse on about living next to an oak forest, and the peaceful setting, and more windows, but I think I just heard gunfire. What the fuck is wrong with people? Sure shooting guns is fun but not in a residential area. Not near a public park. It doesn’t matter that there is a lot of undeveloped land around. Assholes.

A few nights ago, about a mile away, some white trash yahoo shot a gun into the air a bunch of times then shot up a car. Needless to say he is in jail right now. We’ve had two drug related drive by shootings in our quiet relatively crime free community in the past year so everyone is a bit on edge. One was a sixteen year old who had been involved in drug traffic. What a sad waste.

So back to my musings on windows but I’ve totally and completely lost my train of thought.

I’d like to say that I can take care of annoying people. Not as in bringing them chicken soup when they are sick, but as in making them live in fear, or have nightmares that drive them crazy, or other creative solutions. I can, but I don’t, as long as they stay away from me or those I love. As with most Vampires, I just take a deep breath and keep writing (or doing whatever I was doing.) We aren’t super heroes or keepers of the calm. We’re just Vampires. We pick our battles carefully. Then again, doesn’t everyone with half a brain.

Oh great. Now I hear squirrels running around in the wall, between the floor of the upstairs and the ceiling of the downstairs. I am not happy. Squirrel squatters are the worst kind of animal trash. And no, my cats are not earning their keep right now.

Ants are in my house too. I can usually manage them. Our neighbors haven’t been so lucky. They put their cat food dish in a bowl of water so the ants can’t get at the food.

Turkeys are in my yard. I can hear them in the back picking through the dry grass (we’re in a drought remember.) They have done their best to try to dig up the roses in my front yard. There are six of them. All females. They make their rounds digging in yards, looking for whatever turkeys eat. The small calico cat used to stalk the turkeys but now she just ignores them. Don’t suggest shooting them. Just don’t.

Last winter I came home to find a large dead male turkey right in the middle of my front yard. I have no idea what happened. No idea. But there was a broken branch in one of the trees above the dead bird. I just figure he was drinking and fell out of the tree.

So if you thought Vampires are solitary creatures you are wrong.

Speaking of which, I have to get the door. I’ll be back.

That was my charming young hipster friend Cody. I suppose I can’t call him a Vampire in training anymore, or even a new Vampire. He has been part of the community for four years now.

I told him he could take my squirrels and make a beard out of them. Or maybe a coat. Those were jokes of course. Bad jokes but jokes never the less.

My young friend (he is in his mid-thirties) stopped by for coffee and lively discussion. It is what Cody and I do. Today, in a rare burst of emotion, he was asking a lot of questions.

First he asked, “Why do I still need to wear contacts or glasses during the day, but I can see crystal clear in the dark?”

“Our eyes are sensitive to the light,” I told my young friend. “It is just part of being a Vampire. Our night vision, the ability to see in the dark, is a gift. One of many gifts.”

“Is it wrong to be in love with a woman who is six hundred years older than I am?”

“No.” I answered. Of course it that was one of my kids I’d flip and have to go beat the living moonlight out of that old Vampire. But Cody is an adult…long story for another blog post.

He talked, while I listened, about the fact that he could feel the emotions and even the thoughts of others. It was overwhelming to him sometimes.

He talked about how he could smell warm blood inside of live people and it reminded him of summer barbecues and that bothered him. I told him that it happened to all Vampires from time to time.

Then he asked the one question that got on my nerves. “What is that noise?”


“What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll blast roller skating music at them. You know, organ music played to popular songs in classic dance beats.”

“That would do it. Or you could hire someone with traps to come out.”

“I could do that too. I could also feed them peanut better cookies until they get so fat they explode.”

We had more coffee and spoke to the transitions in our lives. Even Vampires have transitions. Even 155 year old Vampires have transitions.

“Sometimes I miss things, like being warm. In the winter I can’t see my breath in the cold air,” said Cody.

I’ve always been like this, but I remember as a child wishing I could breath out fog like regular humans could. Growing up this way makes being this way normal.

“Cody,” I said, “your feelings are normal. Your new world is normal too. Take it from me, no matter where you are, make it your normal.”

I’m sure that made no sense at all to him, but he looked at me as if I was some self-help guru.

“Like a new normal,” he said.

“Like the normal you’ll always had but just different. Even if you had never become a Vampire you’d still have major changes in your life.”

Then we talked about books, and had more coffee, and went for a walk down by the lake.

And now, I’m back here with my cats, the squirrels, and still no ideas about my twenty-six windows and how I’m going to tie those into a life lesson story. Oh well.

Have a good week everyone. And don’t feel stupid to ask questions. There are no stupid questions. OK there are stupid questions but I’m a mom and I’m not supposed to say that.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman


The house with 26 windows

The house with 26 windows






Ghostly Muse – I think not


You are not prey

For I do not kill

Or take without giving


I don’t steal your dreams

Or make you scream

In your bed alone


I take only what I need

And in return

You are in blissful wonder


Don’t fear the ones

With a shadow for a soul

And a vision of night


“What are you writing?” That was said in a sarcastic tone right from the mouth of the Ghost who materialized over my shoulder like a puff of stale cigarette smoke. That was the last thing I needed.

I glared at him. “Go away. It isn’t for your eyes.”

He gave me a disgusted look. “It isn’t for any eyes.”

“I was just playing around with the words.”

“You’re such a Vampire. Always trying to make your vile nasty things look so innocent. Why don’t you just say that you creep around at night and scare the shit out of people.”

“That is your job Mr. Ghost.”

“Oh right. But you’re pretty creepy.”

I stood up and faced him. “Really? You think I’m creepy?”

He gave me one of those creepy smiles and raised an eyebrow. “I do.”

“That comes from a disembodied dead person who lurks around and stalks people,” I told him.

“I don’t lurk. And you’re not a people. You’re a Vampire. You’re dead too.”

“ Excuse me Nigel, I am not dead.”

“A twisted technicality. And what about your husband? He wasn’t born into your sick and twisted Vampire world. He was held down by a gang of Vampires while their Vampire slut sucked out all of his blood as well as his very life. Then they filled him with their poisoned blood and breath and gave him a shadow for a soul. He had a funeral. His girlfriend cried over his dead cold body. He now, like you, has to drink blood to survive.”

“At least my husband has a body.”

Nigel smiled again. “A body most guys would envy, but he is still a cold dead Vampire.”

“Are you done here?”

“Sure.” The ghost all but rolled his eyes. “You know when you’re angry your fangs come out.”

“Enough.” I snapped out at him.

Then he had the audacity to put his head back and laugh. “Admit it Vampire. I’m your muse.”

“Go away.”

“Goodnight Juliette.” He faded away but I could still hear him laughing in the distance.

be nice

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Meanwhile…lurking under my house…

When you hear a lot of yelling and banging around under the house you know A) the dog has a skunk or B) the dog has a raccoon.

Clara had down outside to get something from under the house. We call it a basement. It is sort of a basement room where we store things like camping gear and gardening stuff. We live on a hill so we go down out the back sliding glass door to the deck, down about 20 stairs to the next deck and then a few steps down underneath the stairs to a door that goes into “the basement”.

Garrett and I ran out to see what it was. Thank goodness I didn’t smell skunk (the dog has already been sprayed 4 times.)

“What the Effing Fudge is that?” My 16-year-old Garrett said as he ran in behind me. (yes, my kids were taught not to be like their mom and try not to use bad language).

I stood in shock and disgust. What I didn’t expect was C) Goblins.

A Goblin changeling sat hunched in the far corner under the house between the camping gear and the cases of wine. It looked at me with tiny black rat eyes and rubbery greenish gray skin stretched over its bony frame. A white belly protruded like a bloated bullfrog. Long stringy blonde hair covered its head.  The same color as my daughter’s hair, only matted and oily. Long stick like fingers tipped with dirty broken claws pointed at my child.  A low growl came from between tiny pointed teeth.

Clara stood there with a shovel in her hands, her fangs out and ready to fight.

The Goblin wanted Clara, my beautiful daughter.  No, let me reword that. It wanted to be my daughter. It wanted to replace my child and send Clara off to be either a slave or more likely the bride of a Goblin Prince. I could see it taking on Clara’s features at it snarled at us from the dark corner.

“Damn it” I said. “Garrett go get your dad and tell him we have Goblins under the house.”

If you’re a regular human you can become a Vampire, a Werewolf or heaven forbid a Ghost. But you can’t become a Goblin. Goblins are an entirely different creature. They aren’t human or any subspecies or mutation of human. They’re just Goblins. Nasty, stinky, horrible, putrid, ugly, vile, soulless Goblins.

They aren’t like the sexy goblin king in Labyrinth (David Bowie). They’re more like the horrible Goblins in the beautiful Maurice Sendak book “Outside Over There” only worse. A thousand times worse.

If only they were like The Goblin King in Labyrinth I’d be spending a lot of time with Goblins. But they’re not. They’re horrible. I hate Goblins.

Goblins steal away what others love. They’ll take your dogs, your cats, your horses. They’ll take the photos out of frames, your family albums, your music collection. But worst of all they’ll try to take your children and replace them with a changeling – a goblin who will take the form of your child but is really a vile creature that has no soul.

I nudged in front of my daughter. “Get back. Don’t go near it.”

More running down the steps from upstairs inside. Garrett yelled “Look Dad, they’re by the Orange trees.”

I was watching the Goblin in the corner with a pitchfork. I could hear Teddy and Garrett dragging something or somebody onto our deck.

I took the shovel from Clara and wacked the Goblin changeling on the head. “Stay or I’ll smash your head in.”

Teddy was holding a grown female Goblin. She was dressed in a silly looking outfit as if she was trying to channel a munchkin out of the movie Wizard of Oz. Garrett held a slightly uglier, smaller male version wearing a red velvet suit shrink wrapped over it’s gourd shaped body.

“Keep your nasty vermin from my family,” my husband said to the over dressed creature.

“Goblins don’t want Vampire children.”

“Then what is THAT?” Said my husband motioning towards the changeling who had just poked its head out from the basement door.

“I didn’t know you were Vampires?” The Goblin had a half grin on its face. Goblins are horrible liars.

Teddy gave the Goblin a shake. “If you touch any of the regular humans, Werewolves or Vampires around here there will be Hell to pay. Do you understand?”

The Goblins shook their heads yes.

“I’m so sorry for the mistake. I don’t want to upset the Vampire community. You know how we admire and respect you. I’ll mail you a bill for removing the changeling.”

“We’re not paying for anything. You either remove that thing or I’m killing it.” Teddy was livid by then

The changeling yelped and ran back under the house.

After about 20 minutes the Goblins were gone. It will take another week to get all of the smell out from under the house. I swept away their ugly clawed footprints.

Regular people rarely see Goblins. Like other creatures of the night they hide and cloak themselves in the dark. Horrible horrible things!

We went inside and called, emailed and texted everyone we knew and told them to watch out.  Goblins are vermin like rats – really really bad rats.

Teddy and I had a long discussion with our kids about Goblins. They’d never seen them close up like that before. I was proud of them for handling themselves so well. Clara was Skyping all of her friends telling them how UGLY the thing was.

I reported the incident to the Circle and took a deep breath. The Circle is our own enforcement group and sort of acts as animal control for Goblins and the like.

I came back downstairs to my kitchen and poured a glass of wine.  I knew the Goblin would have never have taken Clara. Goblins are too stupid and weak to take Vampire children. In fact, they’re too stupid to take just about any child. But one must always be careful.


The ghost waited outside on the deck. I went outside to see if he wanted anything.

He gave me a sly smile as he leaned against the deck rail. “Now you have something to hate even more than ghosts.” He spoke to me in his usually somewhat snarky tone.

“I’ve always hated goblins more than ghosts.” That was true, and I’d never lie to the ghost.

“I suppose it is the level of sophistication a ghost brings to the party.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to hold back a smile.



Happy Friday everyone and have a good weekend. And do you know where your kids are? You’d better.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman