Ghost

[woolybanana (ex tag)]

I or rather my house or what I pompously call mei propherty, has a ghost. What can I do about it?

At this time of year particulalry, about 3am we hear the sounds of a heavy footed (clogs) person walking past, down a small footpath behind us. My cousin and a neighbour have both heard the sound independently of myself. It has been heard when there are no animals in the fields around and there are no footprints visible.

Any ideas for to get rid of it or to foto it or what to do svp?

 

[chris pp]

You only got the one? Hardly worth mentioning.[:D]

Chris

[woolybanana (ex tag)]

How many u got?

[Monika]

When I was a child we lived in the top part of an old farmhouse. When the farmer who lived below us was on his deathbed, the lintel over the front door split in half and after his death we heard him coming up the outside steps, in his heavy wooden clogs, punctually at 4 o'clock in the morning after milking his cows. This went on for two weeks until my mother had some masses read for him and lit some candles in church. Being in France and it being a catholic country you could probably ask at your local church or at least you could go and light some candles. But perhaps it is a shame to get rid of your friendly ghost?

[woolybanana (ex tag)]

My cousin won't come here after she heard it.

[trumpet]

quote user="woolybanana (ex tag)"How many u got?/quote

LOLLOL[:D][:D]

Stop it banana,[blink] I can't take any more.[:D]

[MrCanary]

                                  

                             

 

   This one is me!

[woolybanana (ex tag)]

Needs sound too.

[MrCanary]

Wooly - on a serious note - honest - I thought ghosts are silent and cannot be heard moving about? Yes, poltergeists make a bit of noise, but a heavy-footed spook? Can we assume that perhaps he, she, or it, might have been wearing Doctor Marten's steel toe-capped boots?

[woolybanana (ex tag)]

We thought clogs. But I raked the ground a number of times and there were never any footprints and as I said no stock in the fields round about.

[Monika]

I am disappointed, I was hoping we would get some nice Ghost stories, surely everybody has one to tell!

[Patf]

Maybe Mildred's found out where you live.[I]

[woolybanana (ex tag)]

Mildred is getting about a bit. Can't keep a good woman down.

Well there is a bit of a story. My cousin, lets call her Victoria shall we, came to stay and heard the ghost. And well, she believes in crystals and yoga and angels. So, a bit later, like a year or two, I told her the ghost was back and had been behaving strangely and had apparently been making marks in the mud at the back. We has filled the marks with whitewash and they appeared to say something like Victryia. So was the ghost trying to communicate with her, maybe trying to use her to get out of its agony. Well, you know.

Anyway, she hasn't spoken to me since, says I should be certified, won't come here, hates me, says I'm twisted. Wellllll, I didn't think she would believe me did I.

[Nick Trollope]

That Demi Moore (especially with short hair) could haunt me anytime. The blonde bloke didn't do much for me, not least 'cos I can't spell his surname... Whatever happened to him?

 

[trumpet]

Well, the blond chap after his mastering of the potters wheel went into pottery full time...........

 making phallic replacements and other such sundries[geek]

[powerdesal]

[quote user="Monika"]I am disappointed, I was hoping we would get some nice Ghost stories, surely everybody has one to tell![/quote]

You want a ghost story, OK.

Deepest darkest Wales. Farmhouse in the country (where else would it be ?).

Daughter + husband staying with us, husband wakes up in night puts on bedside lamp, looks across sleeping wife and sees lady standing next to bed, in his half awake state his first thought was why is MIL (my wife) standing there. Then realises that he can see picture on wall behind figure - looking THROUGH the figure. Instant freak out.

Lady was dressed in old fashioned type (victorian?) clothes. We called her Suzy, no real reason.

Same bedroom, some time much later. My wife going from our room across passage to bathroom passage sees a "shadow" out of the corner of her eyes as she passed the open bedroom door (Suzy room). Mentally puts it down to her own shadow being reflected by mirror. When I checked it was physically not possible for that to happen.

Things used to go missing in the house, for no reason, just minor items and couldn't be found. Weeks later said item would be "found" in full view. We had been Suzied!.

When we left the house, everyone in the family, unknown to each other went into the bedroom and said goodbye to Suzy, we didn't realise that until weeks afterwards.

Suzy was considered a friendly ghost, if a bit annoying at times. She wasn't a real problem in the 11 yrs we had that house.

[woolybanana (ex tag)]

You mean Suzie Karloff

This why you are hiding in Sharjah?  Any djinns about?

[powerdesal]

Couple of bottles, Bombay Sapphire, personally I prefer Bacardi.

[Frenchie]

God , I shouldn't have read this, I m not gonna sleep tonight !!

[powerdesal]

Watch for shadows where there shouldn't be any [:'(]

[woolybanana (ex tag)]

Listen to creaks on the stair, movements in the light. Did you really leave the ornaments like that; Check the dust rings.[6]

[powerdesal]

Is it a bird,

Is it a plane,

Is it a SUUUUUZY?

[powerdesal]

Further to the Welsh Suzy episode.

She only appeared after we had moved a wardrobe from one particular wall, so if you have recently re-arranged any furniture ........be aware, be very aware  [6]

[Gluestick]

This is a true story. Believe it or not; up to you.

For the record, I am a sort of professional sceptic. My wife isn't as she can capture past vibes from places. At times, this has made her very unwell. She is not a wobbly dramatic sort of person; quite the reverse.

However.......................

About 33 years ago, my wife ran an antique shop for a chum of mine. He was always out on the road buying and selling and she ran the shop.

Meanwhile, having sold a business and being at something of a loose end for a bit, I used to trade antiques and play the auctions.

In thos happier days, it was still possible to buy excellent stuff from secondhand and junks shops. One woman I used to call into regularly would always save me various things, but most of all prints and pictures. I forgave her her Cockney whit and waspish sense of fun: as I tolerated her dreadful red hennaed hair! but business was business!

One day she was delighted to see me!

"Got some stuff for yer, Mate!" she said and showed me a matching pair of Victorian bi-chrome prints, in beautiful yew frames, mounted with what I suspected was ormalu. The subjects were uninspiring:  a typical mid-Victorian garden with a beautiful blonde lady, sat, in her voluminous crinoline on a wooden slat bench in front of a rockery and fountain, a pretty little girl with ringlets standing one one side of her and ahandsome little boy in a sailor suit on the other. behind them stood what can only be described as an imperious Victorian man, in a stove pipe hat, a long claw-tailed coat and tight trousers; his very generous black moustaches literally bristled and his piercing, small eyes looked evil!

She named a silly price for the pair: and I nearly broke my arm wrenching my wallet out to pay!

The pictures went firstly to home, where I cleaned the frames and the glass: my wife hated them at first sight and expressed her unease. The next day they went to my chums's antique shop and I hung them over a chiffoniere, on the top of which was some of his own personal Chelsea pottery.

The next morning one print lay face down on the floor. It was rehung. The next morning it lay on the floor. And again. What none of us could understand was that the cord was unbroken; the nail in the wall still firmly embedded in the plaster, yet the print had "jumped" off the wall and over two feet of the top of the chiffoniere to the floor! Worrying about his china and porcelain., we propped them up on the floor against the wall. The next morning they both laid flat on the floor!

We rationalised about passing juggernauts shaking the building. About gusts of wind. About anything sensible!

Perhaps a week or two later, I was again on my rounds so to speak and popped into my lady friend's shop.

"Got some luvverly ebony frame for you, darling!" she said as I walked in.

Joking, I said, "I don't like your prints! They jump off the walls!"

"Do I look bleedin' stoopid? she asked me, "Why d'yer fink I let yer 'ave ;'em so bloody cheap?"

"Fair frightened me to deaf, Mate: jumpin' all round my bleedin' shop!"

Shortly afterwards, I sold them to a rather strange dealer, whom, it was rumoured, had connections with the world of Spiritulism and the occult.

Some years later, as I was going in to the local court house to lodge a document for a client, I saw my secondhand shop lady.

"'Allo ,darlin'!" she said, pleased to see me, "I'm 'ere for me bleedin' divorce." I commiserated, accordingly as one does at such times.

"'Ere! Guess wot!" Those bloody pictures" That awful geezer! The gent in the 'at!"

I thought for a bit and then realised she was referring to the bi-chrome prints.

"Well, I know 'oo you sold 'em to. I see him regular like. Anyway, that geezer, 'e's moved round in the pictures! E's in anuvver place!"

 

[trumpet]

You made me really have to think Gluestick. At first I thought. ''Yea, this is made to make me ask ''Where? And then you would retort with a witty answer and I would be the one to get DONG. or Dugh.

I now know the answer...... Fascinating.