You might think a church is a strange place for a witch to hang out but you’ll often find MrT and myself visiting the odd church or two.
I’m a big fan of architecture and the older the better. In my opinion modern day buildings lack the character and workmanship found in the past. When I visit old buildings I’m swept back in time to days when stone masons were in demand and carpenters truly created works of art (not just door frames). I ‘feel’ the building and the energy that’s gone into creating them.
I also like graveyards. I don’t find them spooky - just peaceful and serene. I like to read the gravestones and image the person who once lived. I wonder if their life was happy, sad, full of hard work or just plain hard. I wonder how they died, why they died, where they died and how they came to rest at that particular spot.
Today we found ourselves at a 12th century church at Fawley in the New Forest. We didn’t even know we were going there - just out for a Saturday morning drive and up for the adventure of whatever we found on the way.
All Saints, Fawley
We wandered inside the church then walked around the perimeter in the churchyard. In between being nosey reading the gravestones I was taking pictures.
First of a young pigeon walking under a tree. I know you’re probably wondering why a pigeon because they’re everywhere right? I know, I know BUT I’ve never seen a young pigeon before.
It's true pigeons really do start out in life cute!!
Then I got side tracked by the flowers poking their way up between the graves. So I took some photos of a crocus (I think) because they’re reminders Spring is just around the corner….
A reminder the seasons are changing
And what happens when I’m bent over taking flower photos? MrT sees a white mist rise from a nearby grave and float towards the church. By the time he called me I’m too late and the mist has disappeared.
I took some photos around the area where he saw the mist but nothing!! No mist, no orbs just regular grave stones and trees. I walked back to the path started to speak to MrT and saw a flash of white light in front of me… like a camera flash going off. It wasn’t mine because my camera was off at the time. Again I missed it…grrrrr.
I googled a possible ghost in Fawley but couldn’t find any reference. I did learn that it was once a haven for smugglers so perhaps it was a replay of a smuggler stashing his contraband at the church?
As we were leaving the church this statue caught my eye. Doesn’t she remind you of the World card in Tarot?
A beautiful 'tarot' carving
Yesterday, after much persuasion on his part, MrT and I went to a Monster Myth & Legend exhibition in our home town. When we arrived the lady at the welcome desk gave us a strange look and told us to look around. It wasn’t quite what I expected.
There were a few displays, mainly of pieces of pottery and jewellery, in a room not much larger than our living room. The highlights of the exhibition were to climb into the head of a dragon, explore a mysterious cave and make your own totem pole.
We were slightly too old for this ‘exciting new exhibition’. When MrT saw he had the opportunity to do some colouring in he left.
We like monsters and myths and legends and things that go bump in the night. It’s ‘our thing’. We were a little disappointed the exhibition was aimed at pre-schoolers but we made up for it anyway by watching a documentary on the Sasquatch in the evening.
I’ve never been quite sure what to make of the Sasquatch, Yeti or Bigfoot - whatever you want to call him (or her). The documentary we watched looked at sightings recorded on film, foot prints and audio recordings. It was interesting and leaned towards the Sasquatch being a ‘real’ primate in North America. Maybe when I’m rich, famous and have oodles of time on my hands I’ll arm myself with my camera and try to find the Sasquatch for myself. I quite fancy a holiday in the States!
Today we went to Titchfield Abbey. I’ve been dropping heavy hints about going there for about 6 months. It’s so close to us - about 10 minutes in the car.
I downloaded the mp3 audio guides from the English Heritage website and off we went to the deserted Abbey.
What you see is actually a Tudor manor built on the old Abbey site.
There was no one about the whole time we were there. We went through the big wooden doors and into a room on the right. We had our mp3 guide on which led us outside and back into ruin. When we got back there was a bird wing and another bit of bird in the middle of the room. It wasn’t there initially. As soon as we noticed another bird (a white pigeon or dove - I don’t know much about birds) flew in, watched and followed us. Strange!!
The watcher!
What’s really cool about this old ruin is the gargoyles which are on the top of the towers. I took loads of photos but it was difficult to zoom in, hold the camera almost vertical and keep it still.
Those eyes are watching you!!
Why so glum?
When MrT came to live in England he was quite amazed at the things we celebrate. Probably the 2 strangest things for him were Bonfire night and Pancake day. He’s embraced both customs really well but on Pancake day we have a compromise – we cook either American pancakes or waffles instead of our less exotic pancakes.
Today was no exception. We had a stack of waffles with maple syrup at teatime.
Pancake day always falls on Shrove Tuesday; the day before Lent begins. This is the time Christians commemorate Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness and they mark this period by fasting. Some clever so and so decided Shrove Tuesday would be an excellent time to use up all the butter, milk and eggs which can’t be eaten until Easter. Voila! Pancake day was born.
When I was growing up my mum would make up the batter and we’d take it in turns to flip the pancakes in the frying pan. When they were done we’d sprinkle them with lemon juice and sugar, roll them up like a flute and eat with our fingers.
Here’s a traditional recipe for pancakes if you’d like to give them a try!
What you need:
110g/4oz plain flour, sifted
pinch of salt
2 eggs
200ml/7fl oz milk
2 tablespoons melted butter
Butter for greasing
Lemon juice & caster sugar to serve
What to do:
Sift the flour and salt into a bowl.
Make a well in the centre and break the eggs into it.
Whisk the eggs with a fork.
Gradually whisk in the milk.
Add the melted butter and whisk.
Heat a frying pan and use about 2 tsp butter to lubricate the pan.
Pour a thin layer of batter onto the bottom of the pan.
Cook until the edges begin to curl back.
Toss or flip the pancake to cook the other side for a few seconds.
Remove and place on a plate. Repeat steps until all the batter is used up.
Serve hot with lemon juice and sugar.
We went to the zoo today. MrT was fed up with me asking about the zoo so, being the last day of school holidays, we bundled up everyone and went to Marwell Zoological Park.
I’ve only ever really been to London Zoo. I did go to Chessington when I was little (I remember seeing a polar bear) but Chessington has ceased to be a zoo in donkeys years so that doesn’t count.
Marwell zoo is huge! It took us 4 hours to walk around and we still missed the red panda and the lemurs. I have a lot of patience and can spend hours with my camera so I was in my element today. By the time we left I’d taken 396 photos - some good, some fuzzy and some of fences.
Here’s a few of the good ones…
I love this monkey!!
This baby antelope is just 10 days old.
The tiger was gorgeous.
I can’t remember what type of bird this little fella is but his colours are so beautiful.
Such a soulful tamarin.
I’d never seen an anteater before.
Worn out after walking for so long!
I’m slowly working my way through my pile of 20+ library books and currently I’m reading ‘Ask and it will be given’ by Abraham Hicks. This is one of those books I’ve been meaning to read for ages and I’m pretty glad I finally sat down to read.
If you havent’ come across Abraham Hicks before I’ll give you a quick summary. Abraham is a group of beings which are channeled through Esther Hicks.
‘Ask and it will be given’ is about the Law of Attraction. Abraham guides you towards realising your potential and making your desires a reality.
One exercise in the book is to expand your awareness of money. You create a fictional bank account and each day you deposit a sum of money starting with £1000 (or dollars or euros - doesn’t matter) then each day increasing the amount by another £1000. Yesterday I created a spreadsheet to keep track of my make believe money.
My new, but not real, MacBook
I credited myself £1000 and debited £999 for a MacBook. I’ve never owned an Apple (real or imaginery) so I thought what the hell! Today I had £2000 credit and I had to seriously think about what I’d spend the money on. In the end I went pretend computer shopping and kitted out everyone in the house with new computers. Well, except for me because I have my imaginery MacBook (which runs like a dream in case you ask).
It’s a fun exercise but it made me realise I don’t have much creativity when it comes to spending money nor do I feel comfortable having surplus money to spend.
By the end of the week I’ll have credited, and spent, £28,000 in my fake account. If you had this money to spend in a week what would you buy?
I’ve always wanted to go to New Orleans - the Mardi Gras, the music, the cuisine and now the Paraplex!!
The Paraplex opened in January and is hailed as the world’s first interactive paranormal complex. It’s located in the French quarter of New Orleans which is the backdrop to many Anne Rice novels featuring the delicious vampire LeStat. If vampires are your thing you can also take ‘the Anne Rice Vampires & Other Supernatural Beings Tour’ from the Paraplex.
Vampires are not the only thing on the menu. You can go to Psychic Boot Camp to develop your sixth sense, visit the supernatural art gallery or join the Ghost Hunters Nighttime Swamp Investigation.
If you’ve already visited the Paraplex - leave a comment and let us know what it’s like!!
This week we started our Spring cleaning. I know it’s not officially Spring yet but we’ve got daffodils in the garden so that’s good enough for me!
We were really, really ambitious. We seriously thought we’d be able to clean the house top to bottom in a day plus make dinner, do the usual household chores and go shopping for new clothes. We over-estimated BIG TIME.
By the end of Tuesday we’d gone through our wardrobes with a fine toothcomb. I took the ‘do I love it? do I wear it?’ approach and ended up with hardly any clothes. The boys didn’t require a formula. They were easy - you can’t argue about clothes with holes, grass stains or long sleeves that stop at the elbows. In no time the contents of their closets were all bagged and ready to be binned or given to charity. MrT threw out t-shirts he no longer wanted (but left the yellow Hong Kong Phoey shirt he know I dislike… hmmmmm) and I went sorted through Tabitha’s clothes.
We ended up with 6 black bags of (good) clothes to give to charity.
The house instantly felt lighter. You couldn’t see any difference BUT clearing out the closets lifted the house spirit.
Next mission: To replace the boys clothes.
This was painful. Very, very, very painful.
Jake was brilliant - he picked out clothes, I picked out clothes and he took what he wanted. No problem. Love Jake.
But Daniel took the teenage approach to shopping. He HATED everything and everyone. He threw strop after strop - practically throwing himself on the floor and pounding his fists at the sheer injustice of having clothes bought for him. In the end I picked his jeans and MrT chose his trainers. These were, of course, the worst - THE VERY WORST - clothes in the world.
If he’s like this at 10, what on earth is it going to be like when he’s a real teen? Am I being tested gently right now and shopping armageddon is going to break out in 3 years time? Oh boy.
Move forward to Wednesday morning.
Daniel: Mum, these jeans aren’t bad and I quite like the trainers.
Valentine’s day is our anniversary and this year we celebrated our 5th year of marriage.
MrT and I wanted a quiet wedding – just the 2 of us but UK law insists there have to be 2 witnesses. My parents came along to witness our marriage and they brought along my brother and sister in law too.
I drove my little red car to the Registry Office and met our wedding party there. We got married, chatted for a few minutes then drove off again.
I’d booked a room at a little hotel to spend our wedding night. It looked fantastic on the brochure and I couldn’t believe my luck – a room available on Valentine’s Day! The George Inn didn’t disappoint – a 400 year old pub which oozed character.
BUT the rooms they had available weren’t exactly in the Inn. There was an annex to the back of the building which I can only describe as a concrete block designed in a manner favoured by Stalin.
Think bleak. Think gray. Think soul-less.
We checked in and were handed a key. Only the key didn’t work. We took ourselves and luggage back to reception. The receptionist walked us back to the room and showed us how to open a door. There was a certain way you had to twist and turn the key for the latch to release. Obviously he thought we should have known this by the way he left muttering about ‘idiots and keys’.
Still we weren’t too upset. Nothing was going to ruin our day. We’d planned to get a train to Brighton and spend the day walking along the seafront anyway.
So that’s what we did. When we got to the train station we were told we couldn’t get a train directly to Brighton because there were emergency rail repairs being carried out on the track. So we had to take a 50 mile detour via most of the towns on the South Coast to reach our destination.
Eventually we did arrive.
We walked miles to an Italian cafe on the beach. They were shutting up as we got there and weren’t too happy about letting us in. Thankfully they did so we ate pizza and drank red wine. Wonderful!
Then we walked miles back to the train station periodically being approached by men lurking in dark shadows to see if we’d like to buy drugs. That was a bit unnerving to say the least.
Our journey back to the hotel was as interesting as our arrival. The track repairs hadn’t been completed and there were no trains running back to the town we were staying at. The railway had supplied a double decker bus to take us stranded passengers homewards. As you can imagine, a bus going to all the train stations en-route takes considerably longer than a train.
All in all it was a fantastic day. It was about the 2 of us being together and we loved every minute.
This year we decided to go back for our anniversary. We didn’t book the George Inn and we didn’t take the train.
We couldn’t find a parking space!
We walked miles to the pier to enjoy this…
Probably the second worst cup of coffee in the world
Tabitha was brilliant - she was pushed about in her buggy for hours.
Almost an angel!
Brighton was fantastic. We’re not going to wait another 5 years to go back!
Brighton Pier as we were heading back to the car
The concept of having energy ‘wheels’ inside of us can be a little confusing, if not daunting. Here’s some great information by Anita Ryan-Revel on chakras. Enjoy!
Chakra Chic For The Modern Goddess
When you see the colour red, do you think ‘Danger danger Will Robinson’, or do you think about love, passion and all the good [...]
I’ve been having some creepy feelings in the kitchen for a while.
During the week the kettle decided to do strange things. I put the kettle on and heard it kick into life (our kettle bangs when you switch it on - suppose we really should get a new one) then went to do something else while it boiled. I’ve finally learnt the wisdom of ‘watch a kettle, never boils’. I came back and the kettle was freezing. It never boiled, it didn’t even get tepid and that was because it was switched off.
I put it down to me being forgetful but I KNEW I’d switched it on. But you know, busy day and 3 kids so being a little scatty isn’t an impossibility.
Next day MrT gingerly mentions something was odd with the kettle. He strolled downstairs to make coffee (yep, he makes me coffee every morning) and the kettle had just boiled. He swears he never switched it on.
Then there were strange smells. Over by the kettle I could smell rotten meat and at the same time MrT smelt roses. Weird.
And if that wasn’t enough strangeness I was washing up the cups before bed and I felt someone stand behind me. In my minds eye I could see a military man with an old fashioned moustache. I turned around but there was no-one there.
I’ve always been a bit wimpy about having spirits in the house even though every house I’ve lived in, bar one, has had a spirit present. The last few months I’ve been seeing blue lights and white flashes out of the corner of my eye. I’ve always been sensitive to energy but it’s now becoming more and more visual.
Which brings me back to last night. When I was tucked up in bed, just before falling asleep, I could feel my military man ghost in the house. I did the Mr. Spock mind thing and reached out to him. In pictures and words in my mind he told me he’d followed me home from the Royal Victoria Country Park and his name was Brigadier Redmond. He wanted to go ‘home’. I imagined my kettle, as that’s the hot spot (get it?) for activity surrounded in white light and Mr. Military man went into it.
Did my spirit rescue work?
Won’t know until this evening but I’ll keep you posted.
While I’m on supernatural matters I’ve just found out I’ve missed THREE episodes of the new Supernatural series. It’s on tonight at 9pm so I will make sure I’m switched onto ITV2. I LOVE Supernatural and it’s not because I have a little crush on Dean Winchester (Jensen Ackles).
See what I’ve been missing:
February 28, 2009
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