Yes, Fall has fell...and Winter is cold as...not actually too bad (for this here part of the world). A freeze expected tonight. But later in the week, back to normal 50s & 60s with 30 something lows.

It's almost that ghostly time - Halloween - full of ghost stories and spirits delight. I think Granny Stainback (Stella James "Jamie" Hilton Stainback 1892-1965) was one of the best ghost story tellers.

My personal favorite was "The Golden Arm". She told this story, among other great ones, countless times. Sisters and brother please correct me if you have a different version, but, as I recall, it involves a rich farmer and his child bride, from somewhat on the wrong side of the tracks, who aspires to amass his fortune upon his natural (or unnatural!) demise.

The rich farmer unfortunately loses his right arm in a farming accident - from about the right elbow down. The young wife (always conspiring) convinces him, that with all of his wealth and stature in the community, he should have no less than a replacement arm made entirely of the most purest gold available.

After seveal years, the farmer became in quite poor health, and on his death bed, he summoned the young wife to his bedside, where he strongly instructed her to be sure he was buried intact with his golden arm. The young (and greedy) wife, under pretense, most heartedly agreed, and he was buried with the golden arm still at his side.

Several days later, the young wife could stand this charade no longer, and had a young man from the village, by night, dig into the grave and capture the golden arm, which she hid under her bed, and hoped to later sell for all its worth.

Days went by, and the young greedy wife with her new young consort were living the high life, free from the old man, enjoying thoughts of all the wonderful things she could buy when she sold the golden arm.

Then, one night, she heard a rapping and tapping at the door. As she was alone and not expecting anyone, for her new young lover was away on business and not expected back for several weeks, she was somewhat alarmed and called out for who was there. There was no answer at first, but the rapping and tapping continued in earnest. She cried out again - who is there? Then nothing. Then, in the dim light, she could see the door knob turning ever so slowly, until the door slowly creaked open, and she could ever so faintly see the outline of a ghostly figure. With some fear, but more curiosity than fear, she invited the stranger in. As he slowly creeped toward her in the semi darkness, he continue to chant over and over, "Where's my golden arm?". She began to be frightened, fearing a burglar was upon her, she rushed to her bedroom to secure the golden arm she had hid away under the bed. Then she suddenly felt a cold hand on her arm that was clutching the arm of gold. Where's my golden arm? WHERE'S MY GOLDEN ARM?!...YOU GOT IT!

The above written story does little to reflect the way Granny Stainback actually told the story. She could keep you spellbound for minutes at a time then spring the final "YOU GOT IT". No matter how many time she told it, you were always scared. Even remember her telling it in broad daylight and it was more scary than the last time. The hairs on the back of my neck still stand when I think about it.

Thank you Granny for your many wonderful talents and much love.