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The day I married my BFFs daughter

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No ghost chasing this weekend.  Just strangeness and fun of a different kind.  

Some months ago while off work and unstable (more than usual) of mind – I agreed to act as wedding celebrant to my pal’s daughter, who wanted a pagan/humanist service in Robin Hood’s Bay.

Yesterday was that day.

Am not a big fan of weddings. Am a bit too unsociable and socially awkward to deal with such a diverse section of people.  This one was going to be full of Dungeons and Dragon fanatic LARPing, scientist types. I was also going to have to remain sober. Not least because of being sponsored to stay sober for October (feel free to sponsor me GoSober).

Elderflower cordial is lovely. But it tastes even better with a dash of gin.  So, hopped up on anti-anxiety meds and herbal Kalms, I cracked on.

Unusual to ever meet another Kit, let alone be at the same wedding party as one. We would not have been mistaken for one another though, for shizzle.


It was windy as hell, what with the venue being outside, looking out over the beautiful Robin Hood’s Bay. There were robes and feathers blowing akimbo.


I had to tether some of the props down with chains and at one point had to send the best man running across the lawn to stop a sheet of my script disappearing out to sea.  Luckily he caught it, otherwise it would have been a much shorter ceremony.
“Good afternoon and welcome….
and……may I present the new Mr and Mrs Edwards”


My lime and soda blew over and left a huge wet stain on the ground where I was to do my Celebrant bit. I hope nobody thought I had pissed myself.  Am sure nobody saw.  Hopefully it was obscured by the dude doing the reading from a Midsummer Night’s Dream, dressed in a fishing net festooned with party poppers. (Thank goodness I chose at last minute not to wear mine! #awks)


Despite being offered more sponsorship to break my sobriety, I stuck to the elderflower juice and survived. Making good my escape on the bus back to Scarborough as the wine began to kick in for everyone else. Next a train to Leeds and another one to Sadford – a chatty taxi journey and I was on my PJs in the house by 8:15pm.

A long day. But successful in the end.


Do not eat the rustic name cards 


Gene Genie & Bollyknickers ride again (I miss this one) #itsnotatinycrown


Monday mishaps

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Hey Bman, who never does anything wrong. Remember that time you knocked a tub of cous cous and a bag of lentils out of the cupboard all over the floor?

Luckily, I was on hand to photograph that before I helped you vac it up.

#itseverywhere #couscousinyourslippers #amnotlaughinghonest

They’re behind you!

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Another weekend. Another night spent pratting about in the dark with my pal. 


On the way to our latest venue last night, we called for petrol and saw a colleague from work & his mate.  They were on their way to an evening of Dungeons & Dragons. Am pretty sure that this wins in a hand of Twat Top Trumps and our Garage Forecourt Geek-Off (but it’s a close call, as at least their evening was free!)



Armley Mills after dark.  It could only have been improved if there had been less people there, or even better – just Scoob and I left to our own devices.
There were 10 noobs there and 17 experienced twats idiots loons paranormal investigators of varying degrees of hopeful skepticism and belief.

During the introduction and health & safety talk in the brightly lit meeting/cafeteria area, I was tugged on the hood (not a sexual euphemism) although nobody was anywhere near me. So that was a good start.


When the over-long intro part was finally done, we all followed Pammie PamPam ‘please call me Pamela not Pam’ on a tour of the museum.  I’ve been a few times and it did feel strange to be there in civilian garb.  Usually when I’ve been, it’s for a school trip about Victorians and we’ve all been dressed up like this:-

Sepia Kit

Assume the position for your caning


Last time I was there, a couple of years ago, I was poked in the back of the leg when all my young charges were accounted for.  The time before that, my work mate thought I was stood behind her in the school room until she realized I was across the other side of the room. Again, all the children and other staff were accounted for.


First we entered the carding room area, with the huge carding machine and the old looms.  This room is alive (or should that be dead) with residual energy and is where I was prodded last time.  A very definite “They’re heeeere!” moment in this area.


I often get a whoosh of something or other next to the carding machine.  Possibly just thinking about how many severed extremities are probably still within its spikey workings.  In fact one of the other people there said his grandfather had met his end whilst cleaning such a machine at a different mill, when someone switched the machine back on and he was dragged into the mechanism!


I was keen next to go in the cinema area – not an original feature of the mill of course. It was the old Armley cinema. Fixtures and fittings moved and reassembled exactly the same.  One of my friends refuses to go in there at all on school trips. She doesn’t like the vibe at all.
I had no fear of it, although we did feel that there was a man watching us, somewhat amused. Probably thinking,
“WTF are these dumbarses doing buggering about in the dark?”  Whoever he was, the sod touched me on the shoulder. And I mean a hand on the shoulder touch, not like there was a moth on me or anything.  I felt it and I jumped.  And there was nobody else there.

Admittedly I did not jump as high as when I turned and was face to face with my pal in the dark, who I thought had walked off.  I properly babbed myself then! LOL.


Fooks Saaaake Scoob!

When on our own in the sewing machine room, someone walked between the two of us. A very definite rush of cold air, with no open windows or doors and we both felt it at the same time.

The sewing machine room

Usual meaningless bollocks on the ouija boards – I don’t trust them, or rather I don’t trust the people around the board. Fascinating though it may be from a scientific and psychological study point of view.  I  was getting distracted by some quality parabolia on this heater – a relation of Wilson the ball maybe?

I had a clamber about taking pics underneath the machinery.  I figured if I was a dead child still lingering about, I’d be hiding underneath or behind some shit, giggling and getting ready to prod the unsuspecting living for a laugh. What with lurking about for years in the nether, possibly being a bit dull.

Don’t let the brightness of these photos fool you.  The flash on my camera is super bright.  It was black as pitch in there.

Nice light anomaly on here (prob just torch flare)

Very entertaining evening. I only wish we’d had more time to explore on our own without 25 other people making a load of racket.

Next time – Nottingham Galleries of Justice in November.

Ciao for now MoFos. xX


A night at the institute

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At the start of the year my friend and I embarked on our first ‘ghost hunt’ together and now we’ve been on about 6 and are no more informed than when we started.
I do get asked why we bother, but to be honest, they can be huge fun, as long as you don’t mind the dark and occasionally mixing with people who believe every last belly gurgle or door creak is
proof of life after death.


I’m not scratching my arse with my torch – honest

Friday night we went on another one, this time at an old building near Keighley.  We arrived an hour late by mistake and they weren’t expecting two women – the only missing name on their list was a Dave Subborn.  Feck knows who he is or why his name was associated with my email booking and my deposit.  Must be paranormal!



We were snuck upstairs by some of the staff to the chapel area where the 26 strong group had already started (including a 10 strong hen party with sashes and veil!)  They were all holding hands in a circle and attempting a ‘human pendulum’.  For the uninitiated, this is essentially someone standing up inbeweteen 2 other people and the spirits are then asked to push the person in the middle either forward for Yes or backward for No. (#notconvincedbyalongstretch)

The man doing all the calling out seemed to have a military background, possibly in the inquisitorial squad at Guantanamo Bay.  “Are you a male? Yes or No”, “Are you from this building? Yes or No” – as he marched around the circle barking his questions. “Do you mean us harm? Yes or No”, “Do you know you’re dead? Yes or No”.  He continued marching around the circle, occasionally tapping someone else on the shoulder to have a go at being the human pendulum.  At this point my friend whispered that it was like a really slow version of Duck Duck Goose and that it was also a bit like he was playing Guess Who, as she whispered “Are you wearing a hat? Yes or No” and then dissolved into barely suppressed giggles which then set me off.  Both of us sniggering away in the dark, trying to pretend we just had a cough.

After a bit more of an explore, it was break time. Like being at a very strange wedding reception, with a running buffet of various sandwiches, crisps and cake, some of which ended up a bit soggy after my pal spilled her coffee over it when I made her laugh

We checked out various areas of the building.  A small theatre, a swimming pool (now boarded over).  We did ouija boards, where strangely a Dutch woman came through and as if by magic, one of the staff members, spoke Dutch.  Everybody felt freezing but the room temperature was steady.One lady left the room because she felt sick and I almost fell asleep (nothing new there).  

Time for another tea break, where for reasons I forget now, we ended up laughing hysterically about whether anyone had ever investigated Martin Bashir as a serial killer – the Harold Shipman of the showbiz world.  This led onto reading online about a conspiracy theory that Oprah Winfrey or Jeffrey Daniels of Shalamar may have had Michael Jackson killed.  One to further their status in the Illuminati, the other as vengance for stealing their dance moves.  I’ll leave it up to you to work out which.


After a bit more investigating.  Another fruitless ouija session and then an equally pointless game of boggle with the spirits where we had to make up our own answers the questions asked – Countdown style.  This was clearly open to abuse.


What did you die of?…..


By this time, I’d pretty much had enough and it was 3am.  Time to set up camp – yes, this time it was a full sleepover.  Just time before bed to recreate the famous death scene shots of the Heaven’s Gate Suicide Cult evidence photosLike you do…


I think we need to grow up and stop arsing about

I got about 2 hours sleep before we got turfed out and then spent the rest of Saturday feeling almost jetlagged. 

All in all I think the most entertaining things of the entire evening were us two. The rest of the group were nice and all but the spirits were nowhere to be seen or heard – I didn’t even get so much as a tingle of the old spider senses really and when I tingle, you know shit’s about to go down.

Doing it all again next Saturday at Armley Mills, where I’ve seen and heard strange shit in the daytime, so lights off should be a right scream.

Adios todas Xx



Still here, still smiling

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Week 4 in the Big Brother house and I haven’t hurt or killed anyone, or myself. Nor have I hidden in the toilets crying; unleashed a stream of profanities on anyone or barfed on the way to work.

So far so good.

One day at a time.

Meanwhile in the rest of the world news,  two political leaders with strange hair are having a cock-measuring contest with each other over Twitter causing me to lay awake at night wondering if I should start prepping. Panicking that my two camping stoves are currently in my sister’s shed in Manchester.


An online shop for water and tinned peaches, then converting the kitchen table into a Morrison Shelter could be the way forward.


Extremists with no apparent agenda are trying to blow us up on public transport.  All they actually seemed to achieve though was that it’ll take more than a bucket of fairy lights in a Lidl bag to stop London from moving.

Hurricane season has washed or blown away several islands and displaced hundreds of people. Mexico has fallen down, and the world watched on all forms of media as they tried to rescue a child, who didn’t exist, from a collapsed school!

All is not totally lost though.  Contrary to what many people, including myself, first thought – ‘The Great British Bake Off‘ isn’t completely hideous now that Bezza, Mel & Sue have left.
It’s pudding week tonight so I am about to watch and play along as I pair up some cold milk with a packet of Instant Whip.

Piece of piss Paul Hollywood.


Ciao Tutti Xx








Happy Saturday dudes

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​You might want to hang fire on the home renovations y’all. Am pretty sure that the third secret of Fatima is about to come to fruition and we’re all doomed.

certain solar death like that movie Knowing with Nicholas Cage


Windy certain death


Earth shaking certain death


Because if the earth and solar system don’t kill us then the crazy assholes in charge will finish the job.

Kim Jung death

Get prepping MoFos.  Bottled water and tinned peaches all round. Or just spike the apple sauce and prepare to abandon your earthly vehicle.

Meanwhile, I’m going to vac and do the ironing. May as well have a tidy house for the forthcoming apocalypse.

Ciao dudes Xx

Let’s go round again…

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Well it’s almost time to begin a new academic year.

It doesn’t seem that long since last September and the last academic year. But what a year it’s been.  Going in all cylinders blazing last September, ready to take on the system. Lead my new, (albeit smaller) but fabulous little team.  Ready to jump in at a moments notice to impart knowledge and wisdom with a smile and pocket full of amazing lesson plans.

Yeah. That lasted til Spring and then it all went west side.



Me, from March to June in my kitchen


Until recently when I no longer felt like that, I hadn’t really realised how low and off-kilter I actually felt.  Let’s not go there again if we can possibly help it.

My philosophy at this juncture can probably best be summed up by this meme:-


Am I right?


There will always be plenty of people having a shittier day than you, which is crap (for them) but a silver lining on your own grey cloud. That’s as good as it’s probably going to get for most of us – and that’s okay.

So before I return to the coal face and my optimism and enthusiasm die a fiery death wane within weeks, I’d like to celebrate the great things that happened this year and the people who stopped me from totally losing my mind. The ones who sent me notes, hunted for spooks with me for fun; sent me memes, love tokens; not always helpful but somehow amusing texts; sent me jigsaws in the post. And thanks to my husband who, despite his usually unsympathetic nature and poor inference skills, managed to be kind, thoughtful and not get annoyed when I didn’t appear to have moved for hours.  Also my Childerbeast for not freaking out at their mother freaking out.

Naturally I have to summarise in pictorial form because , as my childerbeast told me recently, “Mum, you photograph everything”  Good job really. Then I can look back at images like these, on the days when everything seems pointless, and I’ll remember that it’s not.

In the words of my childerbeast…. “Blessed”.









So back to school tomorrow.  I am going in this year with no expectations. That way I can’t be disappointed or annoyed. I’ll go in. Do my thing. Hope for the best and then come home, sleep, then go back the next day and try again.


Bring it on Booms!  We can do this.


And to end a perfect summer holiday of sun, treating myself to a new vacuum cleaner (small pleasures) visits with friends, festivalling, glitter and music – my parents dropped by today for an impromptu visit.

Good times.


Life (today anyway) is good.  Not always. Not for everyone. But today, it’s alright for me & mine, & that’ll do.

Ciao MoFos