There is nothing more sinister in our house than the cellar. And believe me, cellar is the correct term. Calling it a basement would be like calling a hog a cute little pig. A cement floor with an open drainage hole, concrete block walls, wooden rafters instead of a ceiling. Half of it is a dirt-filled crawl space and the rest is our "laundry room." I haven't been down there in years--our only stair lift goes to the second floor--but dear Ed is up and down these open stairs doing our wash a couple of times a week. I don't even like to imagine what creepy-crawlies probably inhabit the crawl space. Now THAT, my friends, is sinister!

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