AAAAH THAT'S BETTER

Hi all

Have chilled a bit this week, so hopefully no ranting!!!

Went away this past weekend to Great Yarmouth with partner and Callum as it was Callum's birthday and we took his friend (also a Callum) with us. Was great fun for the boys as they spent most of the time between the beach and the arcades. However, not so much fun for me as my beloved partner who is "not interested in football and I only want to watch the England match" spent most of the day in the caravan watching every bloody match that was showing!!! Grrrr!

Ooops, a rant, sorry!

What else has been on my mind? Well, I've had some strange conversations with people over the past couple of weeks, all unconnected, about paranormal activity! Which kind of brings me back to my first blog about my dad and the Drop Dead Fred video. Those of you of a nervous disposition should probably stop reading now - hehe. So here goes:

When I was young I lived in a two bedroomed Council house in Twydall. I had the smaller front bedroom to start with, but when I got older (probably about 8ish) I moved into the back bedroom which was a lot bigger. The door of the room had a very stiff handle which you had to push down and then push a bit more. A bit like the zoom on a digital camera; you zoom in as far as you can, wait a microsecond and then zoom in a bit more (well that's how mine works anyway). Needless to say the bedroom door had a knack to it and it was one of the reasons I was moved in there; I could do it, but my dad, who was in his 50s by then, was having trouble with it as did my mum. I loved that room! It was big enough for me to separate into two areas; bed area and seating area with my record player and my books!

Anyway I'm digressing, but it is pretty important to lay down the grounding to the story. My parents were both ex Sunday School teachers and mum was very religious. I was sent to Sunday School, but never felt 'right' going and I still feel uncomfortable in a church; but that's another blog. Because of mum's religious beliefs she did not under any circumstances believe in ghosts or anything supernatural. She believed you died and went to heaven or hell and that was it! So when I, at the tender age of 8ish, would come downstairs and announce that my bed rocked every night and that my door was always open in the morning she wouldn't have any of it. Her explanation was that I must have dreamt the bed rocking and the door being open must have been me going to the toilet in the night and not remembering. Hmmm! Every night mum?? Seems a bit excessive. And there was more. We started having sharp utensils such as carving knives, bread knives and scissors going missing and they would turn up buried in the garden a few weeks later. Mum's answer: the dog!! Now I know that dogs are intelligent and Rex our mongrel was pretty cool, but to only steal knives and scissors!? And never to cut his mouth!? That seemed a little far fetched to me! I was convinced we had a ghost! Not an unfriendly one, but a ghost nonetheless!!

This phenomenon went on until I left home at 18, the only changes were that knives stopped going missing, but every time I got upset light bulbs would blow all at once and sometimes electrical items would fuse! Now that makes it sound like I'd get in a temper or a wailing moment and the electrics would go, but it wasn't like that. I didn't cry much as a kid as mum was never sympathetic, so I learned to keep upset inside, but whenever it got bad within a few days something would go; either all the bulbs or the hoover would fuse or the telly. It got pretty weird actually, but I was ok with it.

As I've said I left home at 18 and moved in with my then boyfriend and things were good. No bed rocking, no missing implements, no blown bulbs! But, a couple of days after I'd left my mum rang me rather shakily and said "your bed rocks!" Der!!! Yeah!! I've been telling you that for nigh on 10years!! "I'm not sleeping in there, I'm going back on the sofa!"

Two weeks later I got another phone call from mum saying that she'd slept on the sofa for a couple of days and then went back to the bed. She said that the rocking had continued, but that it wasn't unpleasant, but that it had now stopped! She thought she'd let me know! The very next day every light bulb in my house blew and the hoover stopped working! On opening up the plug, all the wires had been pulled out! The kettle then went and exactly the same thing had happened in that plug too! Now some of you would probably have freaked out by this point, but I'd been living with it for over half my life by this point and I actually rather liked my little ghost! I'd even given him a name - Harry! And I often spoke to him as I did on this occasion. "Stop mucking about Harry, so you've found me, now pack it in!" is normally the kind of thing I say! And every time I've moved the same thing has happened. All quiet for a couple of weeks and then it starts again!

I suppose the most freakiest moments were after I had my daughter, Terri. We had a border collie then called Max who was very protective of her. When she was born I'd told Harry that he didn't need to look after me anymore and that he should keep and eye on Terri instead. That evening when we took her up to bed, Max refused to leave her bedroom door and spent the next hour staring at some random spot on the wall next to her room. The next day the hoover blew as did the microwave and the kettle. It appeared that Max didn't like Harry watching Terri and Harry was sulking! Another time I lost my rag with him as I couldn't find any scissors again (I think he takes sharp things to prevent children hurting themselves), so I yelled at him to pack it in and go away! The lightbulbs went on that occasion and then it was quiet! A week or so later I was out in the garden with Terri (a toddler by then) and my neighbour came out and asked if I knew anything about imaginary friends. I asked her why and she said that her youngest boy had suddenly started to talk to someone and it was freaking her out! Apparently he was having proper conversations with pauses in the flow of speech as if listening to the reply. I asked if she knew who/what it was and she replied that it was a man called, wait for it, Harry!!!! "Ah" I said, "he's mine!" I then explained everything to the poor woman and told her to tell him to pack it in and come home. I said she would probably feel pretty daft, but it would work. She did and it did. Her son stopped having conversations and my hoover blew again!!! Welcome home Harry!

Harry is still with me although not so active as he once was! I still get phases of things not working properly and they are normally related to times when I'm either extremely stressed or very upset, but it's fine and he's never been violent. I've been told by several 'medium' type people that he's my Grandad, but I'm not entirely sure as I never met my Grandad and I've never seen Harry, although one of my ex boyfriends apparently did! An old man with lots of white hair was his description and that is pretty much what my Grandad looks like in an old photo I have! I think he's quieter now as there are more of them than before. I'm pretty sure my dad is with me as is a old woman and a young boy, but again I've never seen them fully, only in those far reaches of the eye, but things do happen around me and I do get a lot of 'feelings', so I'm not dismissing it at all.

So Drop Dead Fred!!! My dad was a canny one! He believed me even if mum didn't and I think his choice of video was his way of saying it. As I've already said I think he knew what was coming! Bless him!