My Little Girl

I know the previous blog is all about ghosts and goolies

But the photo was too cute not to blog

Ghosts

The final dogwalk of the evening is a short one.
We amble down the lane and away from the last street light in the village to the gate of Graham's field. The field is always dark, but you can clearly see the far boundary field hedges and trees  set against the sky perhaps four hundred metres away.
It always reminds me of the country set of the film " Night Of The Hunter"

Last night, my teeth were set on edge , by the eerie sound of badgers fighting somewhere over in the riding stables. Their bickering upset the dogs who pulled at their leads, so I hurried them down to the field gate so they could do what they do so we could get back to the comfort of the log burner.

As the dogs sniffed and spun, I looked over the black field at the outlines of the hedges and trees set against the sky and immediately saw the silhouette of a man, standing very still .

I don't know if it was the badgers, or the fact it is almost Halloween or the fact that man was standing very still in the middle of a black field in the middle of the night but I almost crapped myself and seconds later we galloped home like a herd of schoolgirls.

The start of this clip of Night of the Hunter is one of 

the most terrifying ever made......

its Mitchum's scream that makes it

So what " supernatural " ghostly experience have happened to you my readers?

I love ghost stories....especially as it is almost Halloween !

THERE WILL BE A PRIZE FOR THE BEST ONE!

( ps this morning I realise that the ghostly silhouette was probably the figure of the guy who lives part time in an old caravan on the other side of the field...he was probably out having a wee or a
Cigarette........I had forgotten about him last night.....in all the hysteria of the dark.

Pps another village ghost story can be seen on my history blog
At
http://trelawnydhistory.blogspot.co.uk/2011/06/ghost-of-john-wynne.html

Fickle

I know I am fickle but it would lovely if my follower tally finally reaches 900
Hey ho......
How OCD is that?

Little C

Ask my twin sister Janet if this was right or not

I suspect it was

Put a Broom up my arse and I'd sweep the floor

I often hear how much parents do for their children.
" Can't stop now.......little Dorcas needs taking to Ballet"
" The boys need to go to football practise and then it's after school club"
" Harry wants an ipad for his third birthday"
It goes on and on and if I was a parent , I guess I'd be saying exactly the same thing.

This morning at 5 am I was standing in the garden in my pyjamas encouraging Mary to have a big wee and when she eventually did the deed, I ran around the lawn excitedly calling out " good girl" like a loon.

At 11 am I was bathing William with expensive hypoallergenic shampoo in a hot bath and at 1pm I was rubbing vaseline on a hen's sore arse at the same time as holding a conversation with a villager about the pros and cons of Downton Abbey.

At 8.15 am, I removed all of the dogs except Winnie to the kitchen and went back to bed where she and I spooned for a half hour lie in..........this daily intensive 30 minute pampering has now brought her round from her mental disintegration following Mary's arrival.

Relaxing in the afterglow

Parents....you are not the only ones that are run ragged! 

Film Night

Wanted to go to the cinema tonight but an early night is in order

Settled for a dinosaur dvd

Who needs dinosaurs?

Sigh

An Autumn Amble Around The Village

 Lazy post today, not feeling too sparkling.
Thought I would take a few photos of our morning constitutional, on this grey and rather damp Autumn morning. I hate wet autumn days, they are all too brown.
Right, we start up the lane

 Past the Church

The view of the rectory from the lych gate

The school on the main road. All quiet as it's half term

We ambled down London Road and across the village green in front of the village Hall 

Not a soul to be seen from the London Road Cottages 

Up High Street , past Auntie Glads

Then  its past the pensioner bungalows and Marion Jones' very VERY scary rabbits 

On to the village pond ( its in the trees honest )

Up Well Street 

Beyond the chapel 

Back up to London road where the newly renovated Victorian semis have been put up for sale 

 Then it's up Byron Street, with Gop hill clearly seen dominating the village

Turned the corner back into Chapel Street 

The Chapel building was constructed originally as a market hall in 1700 

And finally, after getting home , there waiting on the corner were the DIY lesbians 

with bin bags of donated bread for the field livestock 

Revenge

Simone's comment on yesterday's blog got me to thinking. She mentioned having a shit job in a shit florists shop and shared with us a very subtle revenge moment on the day she quit when she sabotaged various oasis' with a knitting needle.
How many of us have had the opportunity and the gumption to serve a dish of well timed revenge.
I suspect we all have.
I can think of just two moments that I have " enjoyed " a revengeful moment.

The first was a brief bit of karma, when the dogs and I were nearly struck by an open topped van when we were negotiating the zebra crossing in the village a few years ago. The van slowed down but failed to stop and was inches away from hitting the dogs before I snatched them back.
The driver gunned the engine and started away as I automatically hurled a rather robust plastic bag of dog shit at him and you can only imagine my delight when it fell with a loud SPLAT into the open boot!

My second bit of revenge was a bit more passive but in it's way equally satisfying. Years ago I started a longish distance relationship with a nurse called Roger ( stop it!) who I met in Southport when were were both on a course. He lived across the Pennines in Manchester and I lived in Sheffield, so we would perhaps " meet up" once a week and always in Yorkshire.
After say five months, he finally admitted that he did indeed have a girlfriend at home ( to whom he was engaged) and amazingly he asked if we could continue as we were.
Suffice to say I walked away.
But Roger was somewhat persistent and after many phone calls and one turn up outside my work, I finally agreed to meet him. Now he suggested that we had a "dirty weekend" away in London and asked if we could meet at Euston station on a Friday evening, he would travel direct from Manchester Piccadilly and I said I would go direct from Sheffield.
I was tempted!
It was a late booking so it must have cost him a fortune for a late ticket and the hotel room of course.
I wonder if he had a good time

I went to back to wales for the weekend!

Now over to you........revenge stories from around the world.....I look forward to hear them