After our tea I brought down the easel from upstairs and my boy and I painted. I would be told to paint something, usually a  T rex and then he would splurge paint all over it so it was a mess. I admit that this was ever so slightly infuriating. He would never say that it was a good likeness before he ruined it. So I told him his pictures were shit. I'm joking. But they are shit. 
Nursery are not allowed to say anything they create are anything but wonderful. But this will deceive them into thinking that they are good at stuff when they are not and then when they realise  that they've been lied to they will harbour a hatred for the world and grow up to write a blog about everything being shit and not be great at people skills.
Sounds famiar.

I arrived at the church half an hour before my friends new babies christening. I sat wondering if I was at the correct place. Even though I knew I was, I thought I might be wrong and everyone would be sat ready and I would turn up late. It wasn't the case. I positioned myself towards the middle so I was behind someone during the hymns.
The service felt too long and we were all cold with the snow outside. I noticed a large wooden board carved which read something about the resurrection. The word resurrection had the 'S' backwards which seemed strange. I could imagine the bloke whittling away and making a mistake which chips off part of a word and he decides" rather than have to start again I'll just carry on and hope noone notices".
 After the christening we went to a hidden con club where we carried on freezing but could enjoy alcohol and buffet food. It was a time to catch up with friends which I enjoy. I hope to see my friends more than I do and there's no reason not to. It's not as if I do jack shit. 

My wife's day was almost postponed due to snowfall which meant it wouldn't be a day in front of the the tv. Luckily she went out still and so I played on xbox with stepson and ps3 online briefly where I walked around as cannon fodder for better players.
Then we no plans and no time frame to fit anything to so I put Ratatouille on for my little lad who had never fancied it from the cover but sat transfixed.

My wife returned saying that she'd seen a lovely coat for £105. I asked "£105?, what does it do?"
She said "what do you mean?".
"well for that money it better do something amazing..,.you can buy a coat for forty quid y'know". 

Today on the radio there was a happiness survey lady asking listeners a few questions and determining their happiness levels. My workmate said how we were the happiest people alive. I said infact we were a good example of polar opposites because he is happy because he is oblivious to life and I'm grumpy because reality is a disappointment. He said "yes you're more of a glass half empty kinda guy" I said " no my glass is fucking empty".

It's that time of year when the Christmas lights are switched on in towns all over. Non celebrities pretend to switch some lights on to crowds of idiots. I can't believe  people have made the switching on of anything a crowd pulling event. I've had three living room lamps to switch on every night recently and I don't gather up all the kids and invite the neighbours around just to see our lights turn on. Hey I do appreciate Christmas lights are nice and make you feel Cosy and christmassy but it's not an event the switching on part. For me the switching on of the tv is the pinnacle of my evening. 
Tommorow I shall declare loudly,
"right everyone I'm off upstairs for a piss, would anyone like to join me to see the bathroom light turned on?"

My father story part four.

The next bombshell was my dad and his wife selling up their house and buying a caravan to roam the country selling antiques on Market stalls. Entrepreneur or scruffy gypsy? The latter.
Mixing with other smelly bastards all over the British isles was enjoyed by him and his wife but it was a lot harder than expected. 
My brothers and his family heard less and Less. We all felt like he'd just upped and left us to it.
The call came after a while that his wife had collapsed and died in their caravan. Sad news. This humbled my dad. He hit the bottle as was expected but what was strange was the ease of getting over it. There must have been a false front at play. I met up with him and This was my moment. Dad said to me that now his wife had gone that he was going to give his family his full attention. He even said that he still loved my mum. 
It was a bizarre meeting but I told him he had not bothered with his grand kids and that pissed his sons and their wives off. He was going to rectify this though. He disappeared again to try and continue with the markets. Stories of him showering out in the rain storms whilst standing in just his pants came through shaming me further.
The next time I saw my dad some of his smelly friends had pretty much taken a pile of money out of his caravan. I'm told he had attempted suicide by nicking his wrist vein but failing to kill himself because his  thick blood clots quickly.
I heard he was prepared to fuck us all off again and I was furious because this was an action against my own son. I thought a grandad should be so much better than that. 
I explained at the time that I could handle him not being great towards me but when he was being useless to my son it was too much. So my opinion was that my dad had succeeded in killing himself and so he'd in effect told us all to 'go fuck ourselves'. 
I met up with him in a mcdonalds restaurant and managed to tell him what a letdown he was to me. I told him that he was indifferent to me. I reminded him of the time I was at my lowest ebb and his tea was more important. Once I'd started the tears were less of a possibility. I peaked by telling him that I actually thought he was a 'Cunt'. 
The conversation ended with yet another clean slate and promises to finally be a dad and a grandad.
Two weeks later it was my birthday. Right up into my thirties he had not properly wished me a happy birthday by ringing me or giving me my card on the right day. This was part of the new agreement. By eight o clock on my birthday I text my dad to say that he couldn't said happy birthday today and he gave a crap excuse. 
So I text him that that was the final chance wasted and to never contact me again. 
And the shitty thing on top is that he put up no fight, he simply never contacted me again. 

Father story part three.

I spread my wings and bought my first shithole house to call my own. To explain my next years living alone would be to liken it to running fast off the end of a cliff believing you could fly. I ran off the end of the cliff with enthusiasm and for the first two seconds enjoyed the feeling of freedom that flying had provided. Unfortunately this was followed by plummeting. I had struggles with drink, drugs and womankind but money was the biggest mistake. I only bring this up because when I was at my lowest, the person I chose to talk to was my dad. This meant a lot to me and I hoped it meant a lot to me. So I met my dad in his local pub and close to tears of despair I said I was in a mess and didn't know how to get out. My dad listened and looked at his watch to see his tea would be on the table like clockwork and said "well I've got to go now for my tea, but don't go do anything stupid like killing yourself" and with that he went.
I wandered halfway home to moorland where I played as a child and just wanted to lay down and never wake up. 
This feeling is as close to giving up as I'm able to do. And I saw that suicide was never going to be a reality for me. Nothing would be that bad. So I rang my mum in tears of humiliation and she picked me up and drove me home. Mum did this on a number of occasions over the years and saw me and said" I take it you've been to see your dad".
At my lowest ebb my father had not come through for me, infact he had been horrible.
Add to this a boxing day conversation about my researching my family tree and my dad saying well there's the girl I had before I met your mum. This rocked my world. 
"what fucking girl??"
"you know about her"
"well clearly I don't"
So this was when I stormed out and home to sob. Even in my early twenties my dad could upset me enormously. I was mostly robotic and emotionless all the time but my dad was my achilles heel. The dissapointment with my dad hurts like nothing else. But by now my emotions were starting a revolt. 
The next birthday my dad and wife visited me and I stopped them at the door and just said " sorry I'm busy". 
I turned them away and although it made me look a prick, a battle was won. 
I started to replace unconditional love for my dad with seeing him as just a man who slept with my mum. He was my dad but he'd never been a FATHER to me. I even considered always referring to him by his first name but decided I should still respect him enough to call him dad even if it meant nothing to him. 

Continued tomorrow

Father story part two 

My dad would take me with him on plastering or plumbing jobs on a Saturday when he had me. He'd moved in with a friend and sure enough they were having drinking parties all the time. This went on until I was into my teens, then I reduced the times I visited my dad and instead would walk him to work sometimes on a night as he went across the village. I was doing this to make up for seeing him less. 
It was my feeling sorry for him that also made me ask for cheese sandwiches for tea every time  so it was cheap for him. I also only ever asked for a book for christmas every year which annoyed my Mum as she would say "what if I only bought you a book, what would think if I did that, yet it's ok for your dad"
I understood but looked at my dad as down on his luck. 
My Dad met and married a woman at work who had been married before and had two sons of her own. It felt awkward that I would enter their home to see my dad. So I would visit less as it felt like I was intruding. I would tell myself that once I was out from my mum's house that my father would start a relationship with me that you would expect of a father and son. It was great to be of an age finally when I could have a pint with my dad in the pub and I did that a lot. Upon having three pints I would get reflective and ask his close friends about when he had to move out of our home to hopefully get a tale of a strong love that had been savaged by the divorce. I was told "your Dad has done some stupid things but if I were you I would give him a clean slate and judge him by his actions from now on"
It was only a matter of a month until I met my dad on my 18th birthday and I expected some kind of proud moment for my dad and his son. What I got for my 18th birthday was no card and a pint of lager. I walked home upset. I searched and chased this man for his love and never found evidence of it but I would convince myself it was for one reason or another and let my dad off the hook.
This continued for years after until the next thing happened.

Continued tomorrow.

Father story part one.
I was born the son of a Ginger bee gee. Photos of my christening in 1974 show my slim father with full red flowing locks looking like the tallest bee gee. My memory of my Dad is snapshot mind photos such as sitting with him on the sofa as he layer on his side and I was positioned in the small space his legs made. This felt like the safest place in the world as well as my parents bed in the morning. My Dad was a working man but he was a man who would come home with a different job even though he should have held down a job because he had three kids to feed. I remember him being a lorry driver, a taxi driver, a plumber and a hairdresser. He was a man of big plans but seemed to get bored easily. My parents opened a bakery/shop and seemed to be doing well in our village. At this stage I was about five and spent too much time alone with everyone being busy. I had nightmares that I vividly remember still because they were recurring themes. I was seven when my mum got rid of my dad and my brothers and I were visiting my dad living with his mum, my gran.  I learnt later that my dad was secretly terrible with money and that we had the bailiffs turning up to evict us because we had not paid bills. My mum didn't know this and she rallied friends and family to bail us out at short notice. 
But to me, all I knew was my dad was not around and with no explanation I was left missing him and so I presumed he missed me. 

Continued tomorrow.

Frankie Boyle was funny last night and my wife enjoyed being out doing things. My little boy seems to be having tooth trouble which has brought on cold symptoms. His eyes and nose are streaming. Today I made pasta and chicken broth followed by scones. I've tried to lighten up today as my wife has commented it seems like there's something wrong so now it's been recognised I can go back to normal until next big blowup. My step daughter has reached a time in her life as a teen that going to see her Dad isn't as exciting as it was and there's times when she finds it boring but she is worried about upsetting her Dad's feelings. I remember having to tell my Father that he wouldn't be seeing me every weekend and he genuinely didn't seem too fazed. I thought it was very good of him to put up a brave face for my benefit. I later learnt that he was a twat and that was how he'd coped with the news. But like father like son I recognise the twat inside me too.
I haven't blogged the story of my father so maybe the time is fast approaching. Here lies the basis for most of my mental problems.

Got up and painted the entrance hall this morning. My wife cleaned the oven. Later I put a pizza on top of the gas job area and some crust crumbs fell on. I wiped them off with washing up sponge which was a bit greasy from cleaning and shouldn't been replaced with a new one. As she came to my side she saw the greasy hob smeared and got on my case. She said I was as bad as the kids at cleaning up and that she would have to do it all again. I said I'd seen the grease and would have continued to clean it with whatever it needed. 
In other words she said I was useless and I wanted to throttle her. I let the moment slide and walked away and then she went to town leaving  me alone with my boy.
After our argument about ghost hunting and 'silly games' and now me being 'useless', I wonder what it will take to get things back to normal, maybe Xmas. I think all relationships go through this. All I need is time alone to feel ok again. 

My wife asked me to go to the supermarket to get her 'lady products' and I hate doing it. I should have no business with such matters,it's as if  there's a party going on and I'm not invited.
But I did go to buy them.
I made a list of lots of other things to basically camouflage the offending item. I walked quickly and confidently up the aisle of womanhood and saw Tampax which I had been told not to buy. I saw a box and I knew two shop assistance were watching me so I mouthed "how the fuck would  I know which to buy",  so they knew I wasn't a regular purchaser of such items. I threw a box into the basket and went to pay choosing the quietest lane.
Satisfied that I'd managed to be brave enough to complete the task I arrived back home. 
"they're not the right ones" she started. I wasn't going back.
I countered "what makes you think I'm a connoisseur of sanitary towels? All I know is I've seen em play tennis  on the tv in them so they must be ok"
"these are panty liners, I don't buy these" she replied.
She was mad that she would have to go out in the cold. What a cheek after I'd just had to.
Anyway I just went in the shower cos I couldnt think of more stuff to buy to cover them again. 
Would  I ask her to buy nob scrub or testicle wipes.....NO.
 It's up to her to keep her under carriage hygienic isn't it. I know I'm married to her but we don't need to share everything. Im told homosexuals buy tampons to deal with their practices so I felt highly uncomfortable buying them and that should be reason enough not to. 
I'm telling you now " I draw the line at vagisil!" 

Another joke incident that I'm not a fan of is The Altitude Joke. When a person is jumping on a bin or standing on a chair to reach something etc, another 'joker' will say "don't jump". This joke has occurred  most months for all my working years in a printing factory when on a machine or flattening down a paper skip. This seems to happen as much even when you are raised up on a step of six inches for even more 'comic effect'. 
But as I laugh politely at their comedy prowess like it's the first time any idiot has made such a joke it strikes me that whilst a person is on a ladder five foot above the ground while changing a lightbulb, this is not the time to make that person giggle so much they have tears in their eyes and lose control. So there's a safety issue at the heart of it actually.
This brings me to the other comment that's generated whilst slightly higher up from sea level than usual. There's a type of person who will see you and tell you "be careful not to fall off". 
"thank god that you've told me to be careful up here as I was jumping up and down in a carefree manner totally oblivious to thinking that gravity was about to smash my skull in".
The last van driver who passed me said "watch you don't fall off" to which I replied " careful not to crash and die on the way to your next delivery" 
He didn't seem too happy about my health and safety warning that I'd repaid him, maybe he only liked dishing it out.

Whilst pushing paper at work the trolley wheel jolted my paper almost onto the floor. I muttered to myself "arse magnets" what the hell does that mean? I don't know where that sprang from. It's made me question what else lurks in my brain like  a thought tourettes. 
After hearing the nursery rhyme 'there's a hole in my bucket' I was surprised not to hear Liza finally say "buy a new one from b and q cos they're only about a quid". Who fixes a bucket? And when fixing a bucket, is a hammer really the best tool for the job?

I've never been a lover of the standard joke. Usually at school I was bombarded each day with this long winded set up which  ended on a lame twisting of words that didn't make me laugh. 
The standard joke is best exampled like this, there was an Englishman, Scotsman and an Irishman.... The first and second men do something classed as normal and then the third either does something stupid or does something that sounds a bit like an amusing play on words. But after hearing the pattern of this joke formula so many times you start to just want to forget the set up. I have an example of sorts... It's what I refer to as "and then the Irishman drinks some piss" formula. Theres a set up, three men go into a bar and the first one drinks a cup of tea, then the second one drinks a cup of coffee and then the Irishman drinks some piss. The whole two thirds or more is not relevant really but you have to stand there being told all the made up story of why these people would be put in this situation using stereotypes that are mostly untrue outside of a joke. I just want to hear the punchline and get on with my life. 
There's a joke about a zoo catastrophe I used to know at school that ends with the line,"That day the animals ate Finch, Chimps and Mushy bees".  Now the 'joke' of this is that is that they've found animals that sound like the food fish, chips and mushy peas. That is the one line it takes two minutes to arrive at and I always feel annoyed at being put through. Someone starts a joke and I'm thinking" skip to the end..and then an Irishman drinks some piss" 
I do like to laugh but I want a joke as short as the punchline.
For example:
What is E.T. Short for?

Because he only has little legs. 

This works because if you don't find it funny or you don't understand the pun it's over and done with anyway so you can continue with your day. 
I soon as someone starts telling me a joke, I zone out as if I'm being inconvenienced.
But tell me the punchline first and I'm happy. It's just as funny when you tell me that there was an Irishman who once drank some piss.

After my stepson was Ill with a sickness which I'm told is 'going around'.  He was confined to his bedroom as a sort of quarantine measure to stop out hound toddler from catching it. Today my wife came home with it from work so I expected the same measures to apply. It would appear that she's going to hang about in the front room reminding us that she's got something terrible. 
I think she'd be better off with a long nights sleep from about seven pm until seven am. That normally is the best thing for illness. A good long rest. Plenty of sleep and relaxation. 
Oh and I've just remembered that I've borrowed Call of Duty Black Ops so I guess I could maybe have a little go on that seen as how she would be out of the way and everything.....

Sometime later....

My wife went to bed at nine pm and I went on black ops and then watched The Walking Dead. I go on about what I dislike mostly so I should say that what I love is when I can play on my consoles and watch a film alone. I'm relaxed and happy. 
Its my life I'm wanting to fill with these simple activities to make it more pleasurable here on earth. But it's not as easy as that is it.

October to November always seemed to be significant years ago as I used to either meet someone new when single or get dumped around that time. Luckily for me few of these events have stuck, only the fact that just before Xmas things altered. After the last disagreement with my wife I thought it would happen again but we seem to have hurdled it once again. I used to be told that if you were single at Christmas it was the best way because everyone is wanting to be more of a slag but I never found evidence of this. 
If you are desperate enough you can always get to kiss someone, it's just a matter of if you want to stoop that low. 

The word 'no' is the strongest word in the English language. Every human being should never lose the option of saying no. 
But... Why is it that we have to not say no when we sometimes want to? Anything from "do you want to come shopping with me" to "do you still find me attractive" could sometimes have No as the answer but we are not actually allowed to use it. Why is it wrong to say No It's not ok for you to visit right now. If someone asks to call, rather than say "No I'm just enjoying this tv programme for the next two hours" we instead make an excuse "I'm sorry Im going to pick up my wife etc soon so let's make it another time"
If I ask a question I expect No might be an answer and I dont want the reason to be a cover for the word No. 
"do you want to look at my holiday photographs?"
NO
Is it more important to save the other persons feelings than to do or say what is the TRUTH. 
Does the recipient really have such a frail emotional strength that if you say "no I don't think your hair looks nice" that they don't just think " oh that's their opinion". 
I reserve the right to say no. 

Painted in two rooms today. The best thing is that you're left alone to do it. I'm nearing the end now. I have just the entrance hall to wash and paint and put new beading down. 
My wife says she happy 'for a bit'. 
A third night of drinking is my reward tonight. 
My little boy climbed into my bed this morning and cuddled my neck firmly. I said "do you like it in daddy's bed?"
He said "I love it" which was really cute. I remember liking getting into my parents bed and also my Grans bed when I stayed over. That's a feeling of security I have never forgotten so I can understand what he feels. Winter is almost here now and the Christmas feeling is starting to show. I'm looking forward to taking my boy to a grotto to meet Santa. 
I may even dress up myself in the next few years.

Friday night and I have to paint and gloss our bedroom before carpets are laid tomorrow dinner. Just getting on with it without saying a word. Well right now I'm just waiting for coat one to dry. It still feels like community service. I still have the pieces of fence to re erect asap. 
Whatever I say, it will be nice when it's done so yes chris shut the fuck up moaning for once and do your bit. 
I can hear the tv far in the distant and it's saying " Chris.... What are you doing? Where are you? We've got such sights to show you" (which is a line from Hellraiser).

The next morning:
Woke up and started to clear the landing and bedroom again for carpet fitters. I have got away with no glossing of skirting boards due to the excellent work provided by sugar soap. The same tub of sugar soap that my mum bought me for my twenty second birthday along with tools and toolbox. At the time it seemed a bit of a strange choice but I've needed these items numerous times and improved my skills in the last ten years or so. Although I still have never wallpapered.
Its a wet day again so we won't be going far but the kids are going to the dads this weekend so that will be a break tonight.

After the big row we had about my wanting thirty five quid and her hitting the roof. " Chris you know we're skint"etc
She has just spent £300 pounds on carpets and £40 on paint and is getting four tickets to see the new Harry Potter film next week. I can't believe the complete turn around that she's made. I'm so glad I didn't say I wouldn't go ghost hunting next time or cancel my lovefilm package. I must store this event so I can put up a good argument next time. I mean doesn't this prove my point that money can be found out of nowhere if there's a good reason. I am bewildered. I can't believe it's me who's supposed to be the nobhead.

It was incredibly windy last night. My fence has blown down in places so It falls to me to fix the panels and try put them back up. As I drove to work it was like pod people had arrived with all the dustbins I had to swerve around. There were structures such as childrens playhouses and advertising trailers upturned and smashed. There was mess all over. The only places that had benefited were the council estates where the wind had swept up all the rubbish into piles. The locals rejoiced. 

I'm just at the tyre place getting two new front tyres on my works van. I always feel like such a gayboy in these macho environments. I don't feel comfortable with blokes but I feel even less so in female company. This Is why I keep out of everyones way. Now I know women feel when they walk past a building site. HANG ON I don't mean I'm getting wolf whistled at. 
I don't know if I feel worse sat here or in the horrible calm of a dentist waiting room. One is full of men working and the other is full of women receptionists. Both make my heart race for mo good reason. Luckily I've got my iPod to mess with.

I think tonight my duty involves dusting and vacuuming our bedroom because of my wife's dust allergy. When you are allergic to dust there's nowhere to escape it. But isn't dust mostly human skin and fluff. So why doesn't she get a reaction to her skin and her clothes?. Maybe she'd  be better if she had hairy nostrils like a man because it stops the bacteria from entering your head. Or perhaps she could only breath through her mouth. Wouldn't it be great to have your wife walk around like a 'mouthbreather' with fake nose hair wigs...No. I guess I'll just clean more often.

My reward for washing Walls and doors down last night was six cans of bitter, my new drink. I feel fine this morning which is great. My wife seems to be slightly concerned of my frostiness after the row we had at the weekend about my spending £35 on a Ghosthunt in February next year. I do still harbour resentment over the issue of not bring able to pursue something I would love to do with my wifes total support. I'm glad I wouldn't be like that with her. The whole incident has weakened our relationship for the time being. 
It's also a shame that this Blog is unknown to her because she would try and stamp this out too. Watching films is made difficult. Watching most haunted etc is made difficult. Painting is frowned upon. We don't like the same music. 
Yes... I am talking about the woman I married but I knew she'd be a good mum and that's more important to me in the big scheme of things. Now I've been married I would never do it again but that's not BECAUSE of my wife it's just not something I need now I've done it. 

What is the deal with having to say goodbye repeatedly until a person drives away. I've noticed this more and more. For example, you've had a couple round and it's time for them to leave and they say " right well, we better off" 
As you open the door for them to go you will say "right I'll see you later"
They reply " see you "
But normally your other half has followed that up with a "goodbye"  so they say"see you later" to her too. 
Then it's madness as they duck their heads into their car you have to squeeze a "bye" in. 
And then you wave which is the mime for goodbye. 
Should I text as they drive up the road?,  send them an E mail.?

In future it's one goodbye and then I shut the door behind them. 
Why do we not repeatedly say Hello to someone? 
"hiya, hello, welcome.."

What is it about the cold grey skies of autumn/winter that makes me feel happier than the sunny days? Maybe it's the warm van and the headlights making it feel Cosy. Add that to some good music and driving to and from work can be quite pleasant. 
I heard another nonsense proverb....
"there's none as blind as those who refuse to see" I was told the other day. And I said "yes there is there's the blind for a start". 
The conversation ended there. 

I continue my community service for going to Bolling Hall tonight by washing down the Walls in the front room. Then my wife is going to decide if a paint job is needed. I was shown two pairs of curtains at the weekend and forced to contribute an opinion. The ones I liked the least are up. I judge curtains not by colour but by how much light they keep off the tv. 

It was my wifes birthday and she told me to only get her something to open. Strict spending measures were followed and I presented her with her earrings in bed and it seemed that her birthday was over in two minutes. 
I posted my writing of Ghost hunt on a website called Living Spirits. The users all seem to be really into the more fanciful side of the paranormal eg. Believing  that they are psychics or witches etc. Each to their own. 

It's a cold and windy night as we went to the pub for some tea. It was a lovely cheese burger, infact the best burger I've ever had. But I would think so too if you charge ten quid for it. We are all full now... And skint. 

To make up for getting my way own way I said I'd decorate the house top to bottom. I've spent all day painting the kitchen. Julie went out with the kids and so in-between coats of paint I nipped to see bloke who's making the DVD of ghost evening. I was dubious about some of the photos from the evening but other videos of orbs were more believable. Everythings open to interpretation. A few beers made my wife and I tired and we didn't have a lot to say really. I'm staying up thirty mins longer than her just to look at my iPod. 
Last night I paid my brother twenty quid towards fireworks as everyone had to if they attended his bonfire night get together. Fireworks have not progressed in the thirty odd years I've witnessed them. Id rather my brother had burnt my twenty quid right in front of my face. That would have been different. I could tell the difference between one fire work and another because the first one went pop and the one at the end went, bang bang bang bang bang bang etc well you get the idea. So once we had enjoyed a night of the banging noise we handed out the flaming death sticks to all the children who we would think twice about handing a lit match to on any other night. And as the toddlers waved their red hot sparks just next to someone elses eyes I saw the bad judgement of it all. I was twenty pounds lighter and my kids still had all their eyes working so it seemed I'd had a good night. Oh I can't wait until next year when I am gonna burn all my hair off whilst lighting an explosive that I bought to blow up high above my garden. Maybe my brother would have only charged ten quid if I promised to cover one eye and one ear for the extravaganza. 

As predicted I fell out with my wife about ghosthunting in Feb sometime. She knows nothing about it or the people involved but she told me they were all nutters just sitting in the dark pretending there's a ghost. She doesn't want any of them near our house or even to know about the whole thing. 
I couldn't believe that spending £35 was the real isssue. It seems whenever I do get some idea in my head that she gets  envious  of the attention I give it so tries to stomp on it.  Then she brought up my coat. She showed me a coat the other day which was nice but I already have a coat, but that's what her point was.... I'll walk around in a scruffy coat  without a care but when I want to go on something I want, I suddenly am trying to afford it. Madness
I came so close to cancelling but NO I paid the cheque, making sure the charity guy came nowhere near my house as my wife thinks he's evil and I'm going and that's that.
One to me, me thinks. 
I must remember to never enjoy anything in front of her.

This is my account of my night at holmfield mills so if you don't care.. Don't read...

I arrived at Holmefield Mill at almost ten pm with my sister Becky. We were eager to start our paranormal investigation. For my sister and I this was to be the realising of a dream. I've spent years watching and reading about Ghosts and still couldn't believe that I'd stumbled across an investigation less than a mile from my house and in only three weeks time. There were lots of people already milling about and when I was led inside there were about fifty people gathered around a makeshift kitchen drinking coffee. It felt great to be in a group of likeminded people. I noticed some people had embroidered tops on with the initials of the leading team, West Yorkshire Paranormal Group. I'd visited their site a few times when I looked into starting my own group up with Becky. It was exciting seeing the metal briefcases containing the equipment which was to he used that night. 
I noticed a lady called Pat who was the head of the team and     That made me more excited. A man called Paul gathered us to go over rules and regulations and then Pat gave a few short words of encouragement. We all got to have a try with the dowsing rods and some people took to it easier than others. 
Then we finally separated into groups which included a couple called Alan and Ayshia plus a three generation family of five, two grandparents, two parents and young teenager Alex. 
Teri and Rick led us firstly into the garage area for a walkaround which the automatic lighting spoilt a little for us. 
From here we were led to the dance class area upstairs which the grandparents struggled with climbing. As we stood silently in a circle holding hands Ayshia said she had a ringing in her left ear and soon after Becky had the same too. I wondered if maybe this was just caused by anxiety triggering fast blood flow but when I got toothache in my left side and Becky got a sore throat then I wondered what was happening. We moved on to the room next door once another team had left. Again we sat in a circle and asked for toys to be played with etc. Nothing seemed to happen unfortunately until we took the circle out into the corridor. My sister reported that she wanted to dance and sing as we chatted to Rick and he wondered if my sister was picking up a spirit energy. With this thought he sat my sister on a chair in the centre of our circle and invited the spirit to interact. The was a ping on the back of Ricks chair like metal on metal, this was much louder than the creaks and groans of our chairs. So we kept asking for something to happen until my right leg grew abnormally cold to the point that my body shook with the feeling. I overheard a member of the observation crew tell Teri that using the thermometer I was four degrees 'C' than the rest of the group. What really interested me was when my colder leg bumped into something I had not seen until now. We had brought over one chair too many. Was a presence joining us? I hoped this was the case and I tried to talk to it saying "don't be afraid of me because I'm not afraid of you". Soon after my insides felt cold as if I had swallowed ice. I couldn't rationally explain this because it felt abnormal. Becky and others saw black figures roaming the large columned space we were in. I think it was Teri who detected that there were two children, brother and sister who worked at a young age in the mill and the 'Overseer' or Foreman also were walking amongst us. One of the observers was sat on a pile of crash mats  and felt someone sit down next to him and when he put the torch he saw there was an indentation left on there.  Sadly it was time for a break so all the teams swapped stories with each other. One man had scratches on his neck from being in the nursery. Becky and I were even more keen to carry on at this point and took a couple of pictures of the scratches. We also met another few team members and asked questions. 
Rick rallied the team together once more and we went to the nursery with a nervous sense of expectation. We were allowed to roam as long as we weren't alone. Becky and Ayshia both saw a shadow duck down behind a floor standing bookshelf. Two people seeing the same thing is something to seriously think about. My sister and I explored a dark corridor bravely off from the main nursery which proved to lead to a staff toilet. It was as we walked back to the group that I thought i heard a shuffling noise but I couldn't determine it to have not been imagined as it was faint. We all sat in a circle again under some hanging mobiles that taught children shapes. We tried asking spirits to manipulate the four hanging mobiles to point to the door. We never stated which door of which there were four or five so seeing these twist slowly and then faster had varied results depending on which door each person had chosen in their mind. With ten us say underneath we would probably have had a lot of heat rising upwards so I took no evidence from this.  The only thing that happened of note was Alan and Becky asking out for something to effect me. Nothing did so Alan looked across at the kids table in front of him and said "move the little table". Seconds later Becky's table made a loud noise and Becky described the table jumping at one corner. This table was the smaller of the ones Alan and Becky were on so maybe this had been answered.
There was another break and it seemed that most people had gone for one reason or another. It was about four am when Becky and I were a little downhearted thinking that was the end but luckily Rick suggested we go on to try glass divination and table tipping in the boxing ring room. It was at this point that it was just Alan, Ayshi, Becky and I left with Rick and Teri etc. We also were joined by Paul on camera from here. Five of us sat around a small round table with the letters Y and N for yes and no. We all put our fingers on as Rick led a protection ritual to keep us safe. We asked things such as "are you male?" nothing, "are you female?", nothing, "are you an animal?" the glass moved to yes. This is where the waters get muddy with the information provided because I don't believe anyone was pushing the glass as I was opposite Becky who I trusted and she trusted me and we were checking the people next to us to see if they were influencing on purpose. Becky suggested that we point downwards onto the glass so we could almost discount pushing by mistake. The glass answered further questions this way and also twisted on the spot when asked. As regards the information taken whether it was true or not, this is what we were told. 
George Stephenson was the foreman who still roams the mill and he pushed a young girl but didn't mean to kill her. She received facial injuries to her left side and died. The girl was called Victoria and her brother was Edward. 
The spirit we got this information from was called Ralph Davison or Davidson and he built or owned the mill. He wa happy to still be around. Becky reminded him of his wife as the glass kept pushing towards her pretty fast. 
1873 seemed to be of significance. 
Unfortunately table tipping was not achieved on this occasion. 
Finally we went back into the large corridor where we'd had best results. Paul seemed adamant that he could sense someone walking amongst us. All of a sudden Alan seemed in a daze and he slumped luckily against a column behind him. He was taken out to have a break. As Paul stood looking through his viewfinder he said "he's here now" and was pushed off his feet into Becky who stopped him from falling over.  Becky and I continued to feel a moving cold spot pass into and through us. This was the most interesting aspect for us as beginners.  So plenty to think about for us.  We look forward to our next case if we can get one.
Chris Whitehouse.

Ok I have my iPod back. Prepare to receive transmissions

my ipod is being fixed.
normal service will resume by the end of the week