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Tinkering about after dark in Tod

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Yes people! It’s that time of year…

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No, not duck or rabbit season – but ghost hunting season.


Saturday night we spent the evening raking about in Todmorden Unitarian Church while the rain lashed down around us. 


I see a little silhouette of a man, scaramoosh scaramosh et etc

I’m not loving the official Visage Paranormal photo though because I seem to take up too much space.  Big hair, big Shadwell coat. All-encompassing an expanding body. Next time I’m wearing a smaller coat, tying my hair up and going at the back. And why are Linda and I holding our hands like that in front of us, all pious and ting?


Anyway, I digress. You want to know if there were headless horsemen galloping through the vestry. Faceless nuns gliding down the aisles.  Furniture stacked in unlikely ways.


In a word. No.

I did however see a small black shadow coming out of a pew near the floor and this was within 5 minutes of arriving at the venue. Full lights on. Towards the end of the night, also with full lights on I saw and ran (well, walked in a hurried fashion) after another shadow. Taller this time and not as dark, as it went across the the main door and round into the kitchen area. I thought I may have mistaken it for another guest heading to the loos, but there was nobody there.

Usual collection of unflattering selfies and randomness in my phone photos but as yet, no evidence of any class 3 roaming vapours (“I think he can hear you Ray”)


Did have fun raking about in the cellar and the bell tower. Somehow, against all odds, managing to obey the rules (dem da rules) and not pull the bell ropes.  T’was very tempting though.


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A couple of other people saw similar shadows to me so it wasn’t just my eyes. 

The only other excitement was Linda winning some Milk Tray on the raffle, but it was an enjoyable night regardless. Love chatting to the folks at Visage about other places they and we have explored after hours.  Looking forward to their Halloween event on November 2nd at Armley Mills, where fancy dress is optional, but naturally I will be getting involved. Am going to revive this number from various school trips there, in the hope of coaxing out even more spectral action that the past few times I’ve been there.

And to those mockers and sceptics – put your mockery and your money where your mouth is and come along. There are 3 spaces left for the Armley Mills night…if you dare.



Come out, little children (again with the pious hands)

There on the stair….

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So good news, I saw a ghost this week.  Years of ghost hunting and pissing about in cellars, old buildings and dark satanic mills with my partner in crime, and where was this one?  Running down my stairs, that’s where! 

I was vacuuming when the bugger shot round the newel post and through me on the right-hand side. I saw it and felt it. Screamed like a bitch like Yvette bloody Fielding, mid-vac, then carried on hoovering whilst yelling,DO NOT DO THAT AGAIN PLEASE AND STOP RUNNING ABOUT INSIDE!”


Then of course, spent the rest of day questioning my eyesight and my sanity (no change there then).  And no, it wasn’t one of the cats, a free-floating dust bunny or a local teenage burglar.

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Told the Childerbeast later and the older one seems to think there is a woman attached to the ancient chair we have now got in our possession, that used to belong to great aunt someoneorother on the Bman’s side of the family.
It was in the MiL’s bathroom for years. Now it’s in youngest Childerbeast’s bedroom (but she wants it removed now funnily enough). I’ve said it can either go in our room or in the loft.

Meanwhile Hell literally has frozen over in America and it is already too cold for me here and we are nowhere near as cold as Chicago. Hell Frozen Over 

I don’t do cold. It’s rubbish!


Me walking to work the other day down Duckets

And in the UK, plans from the cold war era have been resurrected to evacuate the Royal Family from London in case it all goes apocalyptic after a no-deal Brexit.  It better not! I’ve got a lunch date with Her Maj booked in for the Easter hols and I’m not having it ballsed up by the ‘gilet jaunes’ and people fighting to the death over iceberg lettuce and vine-ripened cherry tomatoes in Lidls around the country.  I’ve bought new Ruby Shoos and a matching clutch and everything – I was even going to blow dry my barnet for the occasion.  Can’t do that if Liz is holed up in a bunker in the Scottish Highlands hiding from the common man.

Stay calm people. (But perhaps get some gas canisters for the old camping stove and some tinned peaches, just in case).

Ciao Ciao Xx




Poltergeists and swimming with dollies

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Friday night Linda and I spent the night at 30 East Drive. This was a rearranged visit from when we were meant to go to back in March but it got cancelled when we had that arctic snap.
Had to call in at the local again first though. It did not disappoint.  Spent a most informative half hour with ‘Donna’ regaling us with tales of her experiences with the afterlife.


All hail the Chequerfield – everyone’s favourite local – love it!

The premise of the East Drive story is that in the late 1960’s some weird shit supposedly went down at this semi in Pontefract. Not many people knew about it but now… the place has become something of a cash cow for various paranormal investigation groups, the owner of the house and no doubt, the lady who lives next door.


We’re heeeeeeere!

I usually have a bit of a vibe for these things and after two visits I’m not convinced that there’s anything happening there that can’t be explained by science, common sense or the power of suggestion on a susceptible mind.

Didn’t stop us having a great night, particularly as many of the other guests were noobs to this kind of thing. One actually left early doors – not sure if it was because she realized very early in the game that the house (IMO) is about as haunted as my anus, or she was creeped out and bailed for safety.

So cue the usual comedy torchlit selfies and calling out for “copy me” while tapping on tables and listening for people’s bellies to reply.  We also found a Buckaroo in the teenage girl’s bedroom.  Shadow theatre time…


I’m not saying I don’t ‘believe’.  I’ve experienced strange shit before that I can’t really explain. I’m just saying I need rather more convincing than the odd rattle, scratch or tap that could easily be explained by settling houses, heat expansion, cold, vermin etc.

We had opted for the full overnighter and much to our joy, we were the only ones who were staying.  TBH by 3:30am though I was done in and rather than rake around upstairs, we stayed in the living room and I was asleep fairly quickly in a purportedly haunted rocking chair.  Despite my skepticism, I did not get into my sleeping bag in case a speedy exit was necessary. Didn’t fancy Scooby Dooing it out the door entangled in my sleeping bag just in case the resident poltergeist decided to prove me wrong.


Don’t forget your penguin Scoob!


‘Haunted’ or not, I was going to sleep

We had more of a wander after about 90 minutes sleep once it was daylight. And what better way to coax the undead from the shadows than finding some party hats in a drawer and putting them on?
I’ve seen
“The Book of Life” and “Corpse Bride” – it looks like one long colourful continual party in the afterlife.


We didn’t want the ‘haunted’ rock to feel left out

We also managed to (in our opinion) debunk the mystery of the creaky creepy opening door in the main bedroom, which had freaked everyone out the night before. I have fingerprint-shaped bruises on my left forearm from Linda squeezing it to bits and mumbling “foooooooookinnnnnn hellllllll” into my ear.   Scary at the time. However in the fresh light of day, nothing to see here people. Just a huge coincidence and a door left ajar coming loose from the carpet and opening – albeit with an atmospheric house of horror creaking sound effect.

Fab night though, despite remaining unconvinced that there is a resident poltergeist or the spirit of the dead dad lurking in the bathroom, or a misunderstood monk (“I didn’t force her!”)  Not sure when our next investigation will be. But I do want to check out Newsham Park Abandoned Hospital near Liverpool – just not sure when we can manage to do that. But if anyone out there needs me to come round, debunk your creaky house and fall asleep in a chair after I’ve raked about in all your drawers and worn all your hats – then give me a call.


Meanwhile, I am now qualified to teach Baby and Preschool swim classes. And, despite what you might think, does not just mean, “sticking armbands on a snotty kid and letting them bob about in the shallow end”.  Cheeky!
I already kind of miss ‘Cleveland’ – my training dolly, after taking care of him for 3 days last week while on my training course.  I might have to get myself my very own Cleveland.  So bring on the babies.  I’m ready…

Later duuuuudes Xx


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


Lethargy and Apathy. My two best mates.

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I took to hiding in bed this afternoon to escape the tumultuous noise of husband and offspring’s nerve-janglingly loud voices (and the fact that I felt weirdly unwell in a way I couldn’t quite put my finger on).


Youngest Childerbeast came to snuggle with me then said she saw a grey mist move across my feet sticking out of the covers. She thought it might be the ghost of Gollum the cat, comforting me from the beyond.   I suspect it may have been the spectre of my long lost youth, health and enthusiasm for life – and even that wasn’t sticking around. It was heading for the window.*


Be so much simpler to be a cat – dead or otherwise.

Look at this little guy:-

Not a care in the world other than where to snooze or shit next!


* was more than likely a dust bunny


Images courtesy of Google images and Gary Larson


Comical Thursday and how I didn’t get a taco.

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Last week, a new shopping centre opened in Sadford town.  One that has been 10 years in the making.

People took off work to go to the opening.  I didn’t.  Mostly because I’ve seen a Debenhams before so I’m all good.   Then I heard that there was a Taco Bell in the food court and I was like “Woah. Hold the fookin phone.  This could be a gamechanger!”

Had I known that in advance, I might well have bunked off and been first in the line.

My daughter visited today, as her school was closed for one of its seemingly twice monthly Meet Your Coach Days (AKA parent/teaching meeting). 

She wasn’t that impressed.   Neither was I.  She didn’t bring me a taco.



Had quite a comical day today, where if the Benny Hill theme had been playing as I went from room to room, enveloped by mishaps, muddles and miscommunications, I honestly wouldn’t have been bloody surprised.  So today was a good day. It made me laugh (but probably shouldn’t have).

To complete the amusement of my day, I am now watching on Channel 4 catch-up – ‘My Psychic Life’.  If you can, then I urge you to watch it.  If only for the part where a lady talking to a little boy (who we can’t see) then gets up and tells him goodbye, turns away and her shopping bag smacks him where he face should’ve been.

Seemingly it’s also compulsory for all male psychic mediums to be as camp as a row of tents!

I only hope that tomorrow’s Goggleboxers watched the same show because I’d love to know what Scarlett would’ve made of it!

I think our house would be very entertaining if we were on Gogglebox. Although, last night Bman thought it hilarious to pull my pants down while I was washing up then pull my T-Shirt over my face & splash washing up suds on my norks!  At which point I did say (from inside my T shirt) “This is why we’re not on Gogglebox!” As he stood there laughing like a drain.




Nostalgia & not being dead yet.

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Friday morning on a PE course for work.  I missed my pal & fellow inset terrorist Gene Genie, but managed to still arse about & have a laugh (whilst obviously also learning a great deal for my professional development).

FYI .  Year 5 boss pal can’t handle partnering me for a mirrored balance routine without falling out of her balance for laughing.


Quick escape home at lunch for shit, shower & shave & then I was off to the train station for a visit ‘darn sarf’ to my old stomping ground of Bishop’s Stortford.

It’s been a loooong time. 

I have fond memories (& some not so much) but mostly good.  Excellent friendships were formed, as I was 12 when we moved there & that age from 12 to about 18 is a great one for all the crap you get up to and the things you try.
If you’re lucky you’ll stay friends with some of these people for the rest of your life.  Thanks to social media we can now stalk track down those who’ve dropped off the radar due to life in general or geography.  We can exclaim at their apparent success, lack of hair, brood of offspring, relocation to sunnier climes & the way they actually (despite a few extra creases) look exactly the same really.

I enjoyed the entire process of the visit immensely. The outbound journey – despite having to change trains 3 times.  Music on. Book in hand, or staring out the window watching the world go by. Thinking about the time I’d spent in Stortford aged 12 to 14 & also aged 18 in the summer of 1990.  A misspent time indeed. Consisting mostly of excessive drinking, riding in cars with boys; unrequited love & an unsuitable mini relationship with a boy we nicknamed ‘Grand National’ for reasons I’ll just let you speculate upon. 


Arrived at my destination at 6pm & immediately thought I’d got off at the wrong stop. I didn’t remember anything about the station at all.  There certainly hadn’t been a cinema & nightclub complex outside the station!  I took a leisurely stroll through town to my hotel, taking it all in.  Had a shiver of je ne sais quoi, when I passed Woolies.  Of course, not a Woolies anymore, but as good as.  Same shit different name.  The railings still outside that we’d casually lean on, trying to look cool in our 1980’s pastel wear.

Checked into The George Hotel hoping to meet some of the resident ghosts.  Instead I was met by a receptionist calling down from the top of the stairs; taking me my room across wonky floors with hallucination inducing carpet.  She then informed me that she had “just put some purple stuff down my loo so would go fetch a brush to give it a swill round” She did indeed give it a swill.  Told me that it wouldn’t come off and then asked if I preferred bourbons or custard creams.



The building across the road, once a ‘Spoils’ (for all your defective crockery, glassware & soft furnishing needs) was now a lively bar with rooftop terrace.  The furniture store where my folks bought their first proper suite (& won a set of Le Cruset cookware at a cheese & wine evening) was also a lively bar.  Would my old school friends have changed as much aswell?

Thankfully not.

Spent the weekend having a real catch-up.  Drinks.  Late dinners & chatty lunches.  Laughing about getting told off for stealing random objects from school.  Making animal-themed tat in metalwork.  About using a naked centerfold spread of Madonna in an English lesson & when a boy in my year found a picture of me (it absolutely wasn’t!) in his brother’s girly mag & brought it into school!!

Had a look round the old alma mater (now extortionately priced houses). It was most tranquil & so lovely to be back there with such genuinely good people.

Then & Now

Then & Now

Met up again in the evening at a pub I swore I had never drunk in before.  The moment I walked in, I felt a rush of something or other (& it wasn’t gin).  The old synapses started firing & I was like “Holy Shit! I have been here!”  Later in the evening, on a visit to the ladies, I had an acid flashback  as I remembered having been in there on a flying visit circa 1993 that I had totally forgotten about.

Hadn’t seen one friend for about 6 years since she paid us a visit in Sadford.  The other 2 I hadn’t seen for 30 years!!
It was so great that conversation flowed without being stilted.  Smiles &  laughs all round all weekend.  Sharing life stories so far & reminiscences – some that I recalled with vivid clarity but others I had no recollection of whatsoever!  All with a random backing track of a Ghostbusters theme/Wacko Jacko mash-up playing in the background.

Good to know that despite not being much to write home about, somewhere down the line I might have made some small but significant difference to someone.





One long lost mate was unable to join us.  Very busy working in Belgium (so he said).  Thank god for Whatsapp so we could taunt him that we’d been chatting up his son in the pub.  (We hadn’t really although if we’d found him, we totally would have).  He’ll have to come &  join us next time.  Suspect that it may get messier for round two.  Not waiting another 30 years though.  A bunch of 70-odd year olds out on the piss is not a good look.





Just remembered the part about my friend’s mum saying that our hotel was rumoured to be a knocking shop!

As I leaned out the window on Saturday morning in my towel, I was slightly concerned that there seemed to be a bit of a queue forming below my window. I needn’t have worried. Obviously it was for the mobile fish van that had set up over the road.


 So no extra beer money to be earned after all. (Insert own kipper or salty clam joke here..)