Evil Queen said:
Sometimes though I start hearing things (I guess I'm not use to that much quiet).
I KNOW what it is you speak of....
While I was in college I had a friend with about 300 acres (his parents actually owned it). We went there to "hunt" one night. I was only interested in quail, but my buddy, whom I nicknamed 'Rambo' because he hunted with a AR-15 w/90 round clip, was looking for deer.
We get there in the evening and set up camp (I.e. put the beer on ice and get a campfire stacked and ready to light). Head out to check game trails. I have a 12 gauge pump, a Ruger 9mm side-arm and a 5-cell Mag-lite. Rambo has his AR-15 with a ga-billion rounds. No moon, cloudy and darker the the inside of a cow. Walking along in a old-old oak tree forest. It suddenly dawns on us that there is one too many foot-steps rattling the under brush. Both Rambo and myself stop at which time we hear a heavy-heavy breathing off to our right. At which time whatever it is runs off in what sounds like a lenghty stride.
Weeeeell two brave, well-armed hunters have GOT to track this thing down! So we procede even further into the forest where it just gets more and more dense. We hear the breathing again. Only this time it sounds reeeeeal close. "Click-click" goes the AR-15, "Ker-chunk" goes the 12-gauge. I pan right with the Mag-lite. Nothing. I pan left with the Mag-lite. Nothing. Then I remember a saying to always look up. I slowly raise the Mag-lite up in what seemed like slow motion. About 8 foot up and what seemed dern near on top of us were two of the greenest eyes I had ever seen.
ALL breathing stops (mine, Rambo's and what-ever-it-is). The green-eyes turn one way, then lurch forward with a grunt.
A hail of gun-fire you expect from two fearless hunters with all this fire-power! Nope! Whatever it was only saw four elbows and two ***-holes as we ran like thieves from the key-stone cops.
Now Rambo is only a gun-nut. Not well-prepared for much else as he's wearing tennis shoes and a t-shirt. I however had on steel-toed hunting boats and a thick long-sleeved shirt which allowed me to plow through the brush with much greater speed then ma pal Rambo.
I get back to the camp site well before Rambo. Huffing and puffing he finally arrives. "Why didn't ya
~huff-puff~ wait for me ya bleepity-bleep!?". "Cause!
~huff-puff~" I said. "If what-ever-that-was was looking for its meal. I figured I didn't need to outrun it....only you!"
Since then I never question what goes bump in the night....
It's really weird, I had a dream about getting one from a thrift shop the other night. I hardly ever go to a thrift shop. I chalked it up to, too much time on the boards and seeing my tag over and over again.
Your parents' place sounds really nice. 
