Let me tell you a little about my friend Juliane's lingerie party. It was held on Friday night and though I had thought I would not be able to attend, I was wrong. It turned out that it was very close to where we were camping for the RoD Reunion. So, I got dumped there and dropped at the campground later. The party was a wonderful success, and it was just us gals, we the bridesmaids and the bride. Juli got a wide array of presents, including lovely feminine lingerie and silly naughty stuff, and I upped the culture quotient by giving her a book of naughty photographs dating from 1845 to 1945. Excellent.

The hostess, the maid of honour, prepared a marvellous spread of finger sandwiches, veggies, silly desserts, and fruits. There were drinks and decorations and very silly balloons with happy faces in the shapes of penises. Yep, it was that kind of a do. Anyway, the maid of honour happens to live in a the most stately of historic farm manors in the Guelph area. It was built in 1848 and had an addition added ten years later. It's solid stone and very elegant with a sweeping stairwell that rises over the entry way on three levels ending in a gallery. The house is in somewhat rough repair, however; due to years of piecemeal neglect, with holes in the cedar shake roof, very poor plumbing, etc. But it's floors are original, and its mouldings are incredible, and generally, it's a phenomenal house. She is living there with her fiance for a pittance, mostly to keep it occupied while it's for sale. It used to be a B&B before the owner died.

And now, this is where the story gets good. You see, the former B&B is also unfortunately the site of a rather grisly murder. No, really. This is how the story goes:

Guests were staying at the Elm Park B&B one weekend late in October. After going to bed, they heard the hostess arguing with her son who lived in an upstairs flat in what had been the servant quarters of the enormous house. They didn't think much of it at the time, and although it was heated, did not feel it was there place to intervene. In the morning, the couple came down for breakfast and found the son preparing their meal. He greeted them and made smalltalk, but they thought it was a bit weird to have him making the breakfast, rather than her. She didn't seem to be around, but her keys and purse were still there. They went out, but felt an overwhelming sense of suspicion, so they called the house and asked for the hostess. Her son answered and informed them that she'd gone away for the weekend. Having seen her purse and keys, they knew this was not so and therefore called the police.

Don't believe me? Read about it here. The maid of honour took us all on the grand tour of the house, including the room where the deed aparantly took place. The son likely came down the narrow servant stairs from his flat and chased his mother into her bedroom where she probably tried to barricade the door. Unable to lock it in time, he killed her, then burnt her body in the firepit behind the house.

The creepiest thing about the house is that nothing has really changed in it, other than key pieces of furniture having been moved out. It's pretty much as it had been. The son's music festival posters are still on the walls of his room, family photographs are still on the walls, all the B&B related ephemora is still decorating the antique furniture. And Juliane's maid of honour is living in a real-life psycho-thriller film scenario.