The farmhouse was extensive and was surrounded with numerous outbuildings. Its windows were knocked in, a portion of the roof collapsed and the ivy making good headway on its glacially paced vertical conquest of its walls. Handy could see why the locals might consider the place spooky, for there was a forlorn air of mystery about the place. Handy was well familiar with such melancholic sites; it wasn’t haunted, he could tell that much just by looking. What most people called haunted, people around his hometown called culture.