We never did figure out what was making the knocking noise in our attic. I guess we’ll have to find out what to do about it. We did get the ladder and check out the attic, though.
As a general rule, animals don’t knock. They usually lack good manners, especially the Chupacabra and its cousins. And I can’t figure out what a wild creature would eat up there, unless it likes insulation.
I tossed an old fruitcake through the hatch to distract the werewolf, demon or zombie or whatever might be haunting the place. I figured that would probably kill it or at least the candied fruit would gum up his fangs so bad his jaws would stick closed.
It was pretty dark up there. We didn’t hear any knocking, but we did notice a disconnected duct. We’ve scheduled a fix with a local HVAC company.
We might have to Smudge the attic. I looked this up on the web. It’s a way to spiritually cleanse a house. You can use burnt sage or other substances which you have to light with a match or a lighter (which you could accidentally drop)—something I’m not sure I want to do in an attic when it’s hot and dry and there’s a lot of insulation and wood all over the place.
You end up with a lot of smudges that way—from a fire.
Anyway, you’re supposed to work your way around the attic from right of the entrance all the way around counterclockwise until you get the left side of the entrance.
We have attic hatch that is about 22’’ x 30.’’ It’s a long way around the attic. It’s pretty big and some things can hide under the abundant insulation—like giant pythons, which can go a long time between meals.
Snakes don’t knock; they lunge, strike, and coil. And if they’re possessed by a demon, they’re not usually impressed by how hot it can get in an attic.
This is why the HVAC repair person is waiting a while before coming out to our house. They try to avoid doing work in attics in the summer heat—not because they’re afraid of pythons. Python wrestling is just part of the job.
This gives us a little time to work out a smudge technique that doesn’t involve adding things like heat and smoke to the attic. That reminds me. You’re supposed to open up windows to let the smoke out. There aren’t any windows in our attic. Come to think of it, do any attics have windows?
It turns out there are smokeless cleansing methods—that don’t involve sprinkling Copenhagen all over the joint.
You can bang on pots and pans or ring bells. This can wake up the neighbors, who might call the police.
You can dust and vacuum and mop, but I’m not keen on cleaning up the attic. Attics are just the right places for large piles of insulation, dirt, and shadows—which can hide werewolves.
You can make a spray out of stovetop potpourri, which might be a mistake because it could draw people from miles around who think you’re throwing a cheese and wine party.
You could open some windows to let in light but not in our attic, unless we knock out a few walls. Vampires don’t care for bright lights and might take offense.
Magical sweeping with an ordinary broom might work, but it would just make a cloud of insulation particles and make you sneeze—which could startle the werewolf, who would then rip your lungs out.
I think we’ll just stay out of the attic for now.
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